


To Tend Our Wounds

by SavageStar



Series: To Curse the Darkness [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Codependency, Crash Landing, Daddy Issues, Dominant Kylo Ren, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face Slapping, First Order Politics (Star Wars), Hate to Love, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Large Cock, Non-Consensual Spanking, Painful Sex, Power Play, Protective Kylo Ren, Rape/Non-con Elements, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Smut, Submission, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:53:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26398969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavageStar/pseuds/SavageStar
Summary: Kylo Ren finds himself struggling with issues of great import that could not only derail his efforts within the First Order, but could even cost him his life.  What is he willing to do in order to survive, and who will be by his side as he struggles against himself?**My dear readers, I promised this to you for October, and I would have loved to have posted it by then. I thank you for hanging in there as I post it one day into November, and I hope you enjoy this story. You may also notice (if you're old enough to remember) that some of the chapter titles have been taken from albums by the band Journey. A little tidbit to stoke your curiosity.**
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren & Original Female Character(s), Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Original Character(s), Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Kylo - Relationship, Kylo Ren & Original Female Character(s), Kylo Ren/Original Character(s), Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s)
Series: To Curse the Darkness [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916200
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> *I would like to caution any readers who may see this work and find coincidences to one of a similar title in this genre. I ask you to please view the original publication date of that piece against my preceding work (To Try Our Souls) which is Part 1 of this series and was produced six months prior. My work may have been a direct influence on that other work with no attribution provided. The title of this piece was conceived around the Part 1 date as a follow-up and I am posting a "placeholder" for this work now after discovering the potential plagiarism. None of us are being paid, so in the end, it really matters very little, but I wanted to give a caveat in case there was any question as to who may have copied whom.

Kylo Ren took in his naked physique as it was reflected back to him in the mirror of his refresher, lamenting the wounds that had left him maimed. He’d been a handsome young man; he was not unaware of this fact. He’d inherited both the nobility of his mother and the swarthiness of his father, which combined, gave him a dark, entrancing appearance. Now his attractiveness was ruined, he thought with resentment as his eyes traced the scars that traveled from his forehead, down his face, across his chest and down to his pelvis; even his shoulder had been scorched in a bizarre roundel. They were all reminders of the lacerations and burns he’d suffered to skin and muscle during his altercation with those Resistance rats.

The wounds continued to plague him despite the expert treatment he’d received at the hands of the medics and droids. Once the nanosutures had been dissolved, he’d been left with unspeakable scars. Although the disfiguring wounds appeared to be healed, they still left marred flesh in their wake as well as a burning ache that would not abate.

To add to his misery, he’d been without the narcotics that had helped dull the pain of his injuries ever since he’d been informed that his personal medic Lieutenant Sharva had been “reassigned,” whatever that truly meant. It was probably Snoke taking Niela away because he felt she’d been coddling Kylo, and Snoke wanted to see him get back to work immediately. To compensate, Kylo had turned to what he _could_ get his hands on without Snoke or the medical crew knowing – spice.

It was Carsunum spice, a very rare and very illegal strain but also a very refined, potent and high-quality one. It was found only on the planet Sevarcos, but he’d made a connection with a mechanic in the hangar where his shuttle was docked, an old veteran of the Imperial days who couldn’t see very well, didn’t ask any questions and didn’t say much in return – just what Ren needed.

The dark crimson-brown powder called to him now, lulling him into its spell as he opened the bantha-leather case on the counter, the accoutrements of his self-treatment lying within. Just looking at it brought him a sense of relief, and he carefully opened the cap of one of the vials to dispense a tiny amount into a hypospray where he diluted it with a touch of water. He injected himself on the side of his neck where he could hide the miniscule punctures under his collar lest anyone should see.

It instantly fed his brain with the drug that had been helping him cope with the torment of both body and soul these last few months. The rush was instantaneous and delivered him not only its signature heightening of physical aptitude and mental acuity, but also a sense of well-being and contentment, if such a thing were possible for Kylo Ren, and he sighed in satisfaction.

Every time he used it, the spice soothed him. When the voice of the father he’d murdered disturbed his sleeping as well as waking thoughts; when he felt the fear and panic of arousing in the middle of the night, believing his Uncle Luke’s lightsaber was just above his face; when the pain of his body was as bad as the pain of his heart; when he experienced the torment of feeling his soul being ripped apart from the inside out - the spice made it all go away.

The only drawback for Ren was that he failed to notice that the longer he used it, the more briefly the high lingered. He was afraid to take more than the trace amounts to which he’d been restricting himself for fear of becoming addicted, but the level of denial Ren had been engaging in helped hide from himself the fact that he already _was_.

He ignored the days when he’d been away from his kit too long and his hands started to shake; he explained away the moments when his body was crying out for the pacifying effects of the drug and the discomfort drove him to rage; and most of all, he was in complete denial that the spice was interfering with his connection to the Force and his ability to wield it, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by Snoke of late, although his lack of self-awareness was helping hide the severity of the problem from the Supreme Leader. Nevertheless, Ren was addicted to spice as surely as a Hutt was addicted to crime. For now, though, he breathed deeply and let the euphoria wash over him as he prepared to face his duties for the day.

~~~~~~

“Three days ago, one of our ships was transporting goods to the fleet for restocking near Daxam Four,” Allegiant General Pryde was explaining to the Supreme Council, its members arrayed around the slick black conference table while Kylo Ren paced to the side as he listened to their reports. “We think the attack came from Pamarthe. Activity on Daxam Four has been almost nil since the New Republic quashed the Amaxine uprising, but there’s been communications indicating they may now be allying themselves with the New Republic-aligned neighbor planet of Pamarthe since the Amaxines ceased operations in the Outer Rim,” he explained.

General Parnadee broke in. “Hadn’t the Amaxines been engaging in arms trafficking and sowing discord in the Outer Regions in order to undermine New Republic rule on Daxam Four?” she asked. “I was under the impression that the New Republic’s forces had rooted out the traitors. In fact, their leader was a Centrist by the name of Lady Carise Sindian, and wasn’t it she who then-Senator Leia Organa had pushed for the New Republic to strip Sindian of her titles?” The mention of his mother’s name nearly brought a reaction from Ren, but he kept his demeanor steady, thankful for the concealment of his mask.

“Indeed,” Hux agreed. “In fact, the Republic’s unwillingness to move against Sindian’s activities created a conflict between the two women that almost single-handedly led to the creation of the Resistance. Most troublesome of Organa, don’t you think, Ren?” the pale General taunted him. Kylo Ren turned slightly toward Hux and sent him a withering look through his mask that the General couldn’t perceive.

“Today, we believe the Amaxines may be completely disbanded and Daxam Four could be harboring parties sympathetic to the Resistance,” Pryde continued, ignoring Hux. “The FOSB has tracked down several leads which need to be investigated to see if they reveal any credible threats.”

Pryde’s mention of the First Order Security Bureau filled Kylo with dread; they were known to be secretive and untrustworthy and it was difficult enough keeping Hux’s knife out of his back – he couldn’t imagine having to watch out for another.

“I’m assigning you an officer who is intimately familiar with the case,” Pryde announced to Ren as he pressed a signal button on the conference table’s communication pad. “She has been working on a number of informants for several months now, and you’ll find she possesses a reliable trove of information.”

A door slid open as Ren studied the readouts, and a lithe young woman with the grace of a Kaminoan walked quietly into the room, approaching Pryde. She was sharply dressed in the smart white jacket of the FOSB, her dark blue eyes setting off her pale, creamy skin and raven black hair. “Yes, General Pryde?”

“Ellie, darling,” Pryde said dryly as he stood.

“Oh, Daddy,” she whispered to him as she approached, “don’t call me that in public, please.” Ryelle nearly rolled her eyes at him as her father kissed her on the cheek in greeting instead of letting her salute him as was proper. She then turned to look at Kylo, her gaze arrested by his featureless helmet. It was unnerving to behold and her jaw dropped almost imperceptibly. Quickly, she closed her mouth, swallowing down her panic at meeting him in person. It was the _Jedi Killer_ , in the flesh.

Kylo sneered within his helmet, glad for the privacy of its covering. He was annoyed by the haughtiness and immaturity of this girl. When she addressed her father it came out as ‘Dud—day’, her High Galactic accent making her sound like a spoiled princess. Even her black hair was pinned up in braids not unlike his own mother’s was from time to time, reminding him of the type of palace courtiers who were all intrigue and no substance. She was exactly what Ren didn’t need on a difficult mission. What really annoyed Kylo is that she exemplified the worst of the old Imperial holdovers; incompetence borne of bureaucracy and a system plagued by nepotism. Despite her father being an exception to this stereotype, Ren suspected it was only the Allegiant General’s own position that had garnered her any promotions so far.

“Commander Ren,” she addressed the superior officer, holding out her hand as introduction. Instead, he leaned forward next to Hux and splayed his fingers on the surface of the conference table, cowing her as he addressed her curtly. “Have a seat, _Sergeant_ ,” Ren stressed her rank with the intention of making her feel inferior.

She took the slight in stride and remained focused on the job at hand.

Allegiant General Pryde indicated the chair next to him. “Sit next to me, Ryelle, so we can discuss your participation in this mission.”

“Sergeant Pryde, please,” she muttered to her father as she seated herself at the grand table, trying to remind him she was an adult, an officer of the First Order. She wasn’t here for family dinner or to be dandled on his knee.

“Of course, darling,” he beamed at her. She sighed, resigned to him treating her as his daughter, not his junior officer, but still trying to ignore his unprofessional behavior.

“As you can see, Commander,” she continued, unfazed by his obvious disdain for her, “we were able to locate three of the remaining outposts where we believe insurrectionists may be hiding — here, here, and here,” she indicated, pointing to the pertinent locations on the table’s display screen. “The other three are defunct. They are all occupied by former Amaxines who we now believe are turning on us and giving aid to the Resistance.”

“Then it’s time we crushed them like the pests they are,” Ren announced, “I will tolerate no subversion in this galaxy no matter how far or near.”

“To that end,” Enric Pryde announced in agreement as he turned to Ryelle, “you will accompany Commander Ren on this mission.”

“What?!” Ryelle and Ren asked in unison, then looking at each other as Hux barely hid a smirk behind his gloved hand.

“Da—General,” she objected, “there’s no reason for me to be involved on the ground level on an operation such as this. My functions can be performed remotely.”

“I agree,” Ren sneered, not at all enthused about the idea of dragging a prissy woman along as he wiped out the enemy.

“The Supreme Leader disagrees,” chimed in General Amret Engell, her smooth voice bringing a calming tone to the discussion. “As yet, we are not one hundred percent sure of what we are dealing with. You,” she addressed Sergeant Pryde, “have all the necessary contacts to assist Commander Ren in this endeavor. You know as well as we that not everything can be done efficiently via communicator.” The general punctuated her observation with a smile.

“Of course, General, your point is well taken,” Ryelle relented. “I shall be happy to be of service to Commander Ren,” she said, the compliance in her voice barely masking her dread.

“You’ll take a contingent of troops with you, say, one platoon—” suggested Parnadee.

“No,” replied Ren, “this isn’t a general incursion, this is a strike mission. I’ll take a small squad of shock troopers, no more. We will go in, wipe them out, and withdraw. I’m not dragging half the damned fleet with me. It’s bad enough you’ve saddled me with—“ Ren cut himself short before he said something more offensive.

“You were saying, Ren?” Hux poked at him.

“Gentlemen,” Allegiant General Pryde rose from his seat to curtail the conflict, and Ren had to the good sense to let the conflict go.

“I will leave immediately. Have them prepare my shuttle,” he pointed at Hux. Turning to Sergeant Pryde, he addressed her brusquely. “Be at docking bay twenty-three in one hour. I will leave without you if you’re late.” And he stormed from the room.

~~~~~~

“General,” Ryelle accosted her father outside the meeting room door, “may I see you in your office please?”

“Of course, darling,” he smiled at her.

Following her father into his work space, she stood in front of his sleek, oversized desk as he settled into his equally obnoxious chair behind it.

“Daddy,” she said, now that they were in the privacy of his own space, “you cannot continue to refer to me as your daughter while we’re in public! It won’t do! You’re putting me in an extremely awkward position.”

“But darling, I am the Allegiant General, and there are certain privileges that come with that,” he said as he opened a vidscreen and lazily scrolled through some communiques, “one of which is no one objecting to how I refer to my own daughter.”

“I do,” she railed, “I object!”

“Why in stars name would you?” he asked, his obliviousness annoying her as he looked at her with honest confusion on his face.

“Because I want to be my own person, Daddy! Ever since I was transferred here three months ago, all I’ve met with is suspicion that I’ve earned my rank because of you and not because of me. I want them to treat me like Ryelle Pryde, not Allegiant General Pryde’s daughter!”

“You should be so fortunate,” he said flippantly. “I didn’t attend years at the Alsakan Academy under Brendol Hux and persevere through years of war and privation just to have my daughter become nobody.”

“But I’m not becoming nobody and I want to do this on my own, Daddy!”

“It’s overrated, Ryelle,” he said, looking up at her finally. “Besides, what would your poor mother think if she could see you now?”

“I’d like to think she’d be proud of me,” Ryelle countered.

“I doubt that very much,” he scowled. “You’re twenty-eight, you’re not married, you have no children, and what have you to show for it? You’re merely a Sergeant. At least it’s the security bureau and not the signal corps…” he shuddered, thinking of his daughter stuck behind a transmitter every day.

“Daddy, that’s enough,” she demanded as her father ignited the memory of her long-dead mother. “Mummy would be happy I’m pursuing my own path.”

“No,” he corrected her gently as he continued browsing through his messages, “if you’d pursued your _own_ path, you’d be knee-deep in mud, scrambling around antiquated buildings and digging up useless artifacts. Better you’re here with me.”

Ryelle realized with regret that he was right. She _had_ given up her dream of being an archaeologist in exchange for enrolling in the Academy and following her father into the First Order. At least in the FOSB she had the opportunity to investigate, even if it was only live people and not dead cultures.

“And Kylo Ren? Really?” she demanded, crossing her arms in front of her, the crisp white of her uniform folding stiffly. “Whose brilliant idea was that, and don’t tell me Supreme Leader, because I don’t buy it for a minute.”

Closing the viewscreen, he looked up at her stoically. “Take advantage of the opportunity, Ryelle. You never know where you’re going to meet a nice young man.”

“Kylo Ren is not a nice man,” she wrinkled her face in distaste. “If I come back at all, it will probably be in a body bag. Thanks, _General_ ,” she sneered and stormed from his office.

 _Thank the stars her mother only gave me one child_ , he thought to himself as he shook his head. Then he considered Brendol’s son Hux. _Of course, it could have been worse, I suppose_.


	2. Departure

Ryelle had packed her travel case carefully, taking only what she needed whilst doing her best to be prepared for the mission ahead. Daxam IV was a cold desert planet, so she was sure to bring plenty of warm clothing, hoping she’d need little of it as she remembered Ren’s promise to get in, take care of business, and get out. The less time she spent in the company of that overbearing, violent psychopath the better.

She could tell they’d already gotten off on the wrong foot and, other than him being an angry, petulant bully, she didn’t see why, or what she personally could have done to have elicited such a reaction from him. Nevertheless, she was determined to see this assignment through to success, hoping her ability to achieve a win in the company of Ren would garner her the admiration of her peers and the respect of her father she was so desperately seeking. She wanted to be able to have something she could claim as her own without her father’s involvement and to prove to him once and for all she could manage her life on her own.

It hadn’t been easy for her. Despite the fact that as a child of an officer in the upper echelons of government she’d been provided the luxuries of life, her father had substituted his presence in her life with nannies, toys, trips, exclusive schools and other privileges that financial freedom only afforded the wealthy. What she hadn’t had the luxury of was the attention of her mother who had died of a drug overdose when she was ten. Neither did she enjoy the care of her father who instead was too busy trying to climb the ranks of the First Order to give due consideration to his daughter. This meant that in the end, Ellie, as he called her, had been cared for but not nurtured.

Ryelle pulled herself together, put on a stiff upper lip and marched toward the docking bay Ren had indicated to her, resolute in her goal of bringing the Resistance to heel and adding a glowing review to her record.

She was awed by the size and appearance of Ren’s shuttle, its elegant wings standing erect in its dormancy but looking ready to take flight with great power. Docking Bay 23 itself was a private hangar – only Ren’s shuttle was here – and staffed by a small crew devoted solely to his ship, and there were several of them completing what she guessed were final pre-flight checks. Since she was ten minutes early (her father had always taught her that ten minutes early was on time, and on time was late), she had to wait for them to finish before she could be allowed on-board.

As she stood waiting, Ren arrived, his ebony cloak swirling behind him like the wings of a giant prey bird, in some ways mimicking his shuttle. His helmet was still in place, disconcerting but not surprising, and she saluted him as she waited for him to address her.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” he asked, looking down at her crisp white uniform as the ramp descended.

“I have other gear, Commander,” she volunteered, indicating the duffel bag she carried.

“Let’s hope it’s more practical than that get-up,” he sneered through the vocoder as he stalked up the ramp of the ship.

As she followed him up, she agreed in principle – the dress whites of the FOSB were not practical for field work, but it wasn’t up to her, and for him to criticize her for something she couldn’t control was unfair. She wondered if he was just trying to find something to give her a hard time about for the sheer pleasure of it.

“Sit there,” he pointed to a jump seat along the wall next to the special operations troops who were filing in while he seated himself in the captain’s chair. As she loaded her case into the overhead compartment and shut it tight, Ryelle was surprised to see he would be piloting the ship himself and she glanced with envy at the comfortable leather seat that sat empty next to Ren. However, she chided herself and looked away, telling herself she needed to be able to hang with the big boys, and she would do it in whatever seat was necessary, no matter how long they were aloft.

“Sorry,” one of the troops volunteered as he banged into her with his bulky armor, his sidearm nearly clipping her face.

“It’s alright,” she replied tolerantly.

Ren was looking back at her, observing how she interacted with his troops. Her glance at the co-captain’s chair had not gone unnoticed by him, and he was half expecting her to demand in an imperious tone that he allow her to sit there, but that never came. Rather, she sat quietly and kept to herself, overlooking the noise and ruckus around her as the troops loaded in for the mission.

She caught him glaring at her, as if he were daring her to complain, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her want for anything as she deferred to the troopers next to her instead.

Once they were settled and buckled in, Ren flew them out of the docking bay with a practiced smoothness that surprised Ryelle, and she focused her mind on the mission ahead, her one goal in the forefront of her focus. It was a goal both she and Ren shared, though for vastly different reasons.

~~~~~~

The ship was entering Daxam IV’s gravitational pull when an alarm sounded on the instrument panel, its insistent beeping and flashing red beacon breaking the monotony of the otherwise uneventful flight.

“Trouble, Commander?” asked the squad leader.

Ren didn’t answer right away, and the leader made his way up to the co-captain’s chair where they conferred so quietly Ryelle couldn’t hear them, especially over the hum of the engines. The rest of the squad were sitting around a small table playing sabaac, oblivious to the interruption.

Suddenly, the ship listed sharply to one side, and Ryelle seized her harness tightly as her legs swung out from underneath her. She’d never experienced a mid-flight issue, and she was terrified. She willed herself to remain calm and breathe, partly assured by the flight skill Ren had displayed so far, and partly because she didn’t want to panic and make a scene in front of the men.

The squad leader had strapped himself in next to Ren, and then shouted over his shoulder to the crew.

“Buckle up, we’re going down,” he hollered loudly over the engines as they began to scream in protest while Ren wrestled against the failing thrusters and the planet’s surface came into view through the front canopy. He and Ren were yelling to each other, providing flight data and status updates as the ship lost power and lolled crazily in the upper atmosphere of Daxam IV.

The squad leader’s warning came too late as troopers flew around the cabin unrestrained, grasping desperately for a handhold anywhere. Ryelle tried to reach out to one of them as he flew past while the ship made a sharp nose-dive, but he was moving much too fast for her to get a grip on his flailing arm and he slammed into the back of the squad leader, the two of them now mashed against the canopy.

Ryelle squeezed her eyes shut as she heard the crunching of bone and screams of terror. Seeing how dire the circumstances were, she thought with sadness that her last conversation with her father had been so contentious. “I love you, Daddy,” she whispered to the universe, hoping the message would somehow find him if she never saw him again.

Ren was struggling with the controls, and Ryelle looked up to see him take his grip off the steering column to hold up one hand as if he were waving at the surface of the planet through the front viewport, his fingers splayed wide. The ship felt as if it were levelling off, and his hand began to shake as his fingers clenched and his head tilted downward. _Why isn’t he watching out the viewscreen?_ she wondered in terror.

Ryelle tore her eyes from the impending crash and tried to remember the training she’d received at the academy about surviving such accidents. She tried to relax her body as she unclenched her jaw and closed her eyes.

Screeching, screaming roars of torn metal and exploding components rent the shuttle as it met the planet’s surface at a rate much faster than that for which it was ever designed. The wings were shorn off and the fuselage skipped along the desert floor of Daxam IV like a giant, metallic stone on a sandy river, the occupants shaken unmercifully.

When the ship finally skidded to a halt, there was near-silence inside. All that could be heard was a slow hissing noise as gasses escaped cracked piping, and then someone moaned.

“Is everyone alright?” Ren asked pivoting around in the captain’s chair and unbuckling himself. Ryelle was still coming to her senses and opened her eyes to see a mass of wreckage surrounding them outside the front viewport. She was amazed that she’d survived and she could only attribute it to Ren’s expert handling of the craft. “Affirmative,” she replied, but no other voices echoed her own.

Sadly, Ren pushed the co-captain’s chair around to see the squad leader’s head flopping crazily at a bizarre angle. Ren held his hand to the leader’s chest for a moment before unstrapping him and laying him on the floor. The trooper who had flown by Ryelle was jammed against the windshield, his face crushed and his neck most likely broken as well, as evidenced by the fact that his head was bent completely backwards. Ren also pulled that trooper’s body down and laid it on the floor next to his squad leader.

Ryelle unstrapped herself to check on the other two troopers. They were lying on the floor of the cabin in terrible shape, their limbs twisted in bizarre arrangements that no living person could sustain. One of the men was moaning softly.

“Commander!” Ryelle called. “This one’s alive!”

Ren rushed to her side and knelt over the last living trooper as he unlatched the clasps on his helmet, pulling the black mask from his face to reveal soft brown eyes, raven black hair and a face that mesmerized her. He looked the man over intently for a couple of moments before turning to her and giving her instructions. “Go in this cabin,” he said, pointing to the port side bunk, “and get the medkit out of the refresher.”

Ryelle raced to obey him, desperately ransacking the small room before finding the heavy kit. However, when she rushed back with it, she discovered the trooper was dead, a smoking hole visible in the side of his head.

“What did you do?!” Ryelle shrieked at him.

“I put him out of his misery, Pryde,” his expression deadly serious. “You’ve never been in battle, you don’t understand what it takes to survive out here. It was mercy to put an end to his suffering. He’d never have gotten back to medical help before dying,” he explained.

He then reached for the lever to open the emergency escape hatch before turning to Ryelle. “Stay here,” he instructed her, less harshly than he had addressed her earlier, but still authoritatively. She nodded, unwilling to argue with him under the circumstances and watched as he clambered out the opening to inspect the damage.

Seeking to make herself useful, she returned the medkit to the refresher and then tried to arrange the bodies of the dead troopers with some amount of dignity. She realized that the planet’s cold atmosphere was permeating the craft, the surface of Daxam IV typically not rising above freezing most days of the year. She tried retrieving her travel case from her own overhead bin to access her cold weather gear, but it was jammed, most likely a result of the structural damage the ship had experienced.

Ren returned at that moment and noticed as she struggled with the latch. He came up behind her, his thick arm reaching over her shoulder and popping the cover open for her with his large, gloved hand.

“Thank you,” she replied. Ren didn’t acknowledge her gratitude and instead reached down and lifted one of the troopers over his shoulder and carried him from the cabin.

“Can I help?” Ryelle called after him, ducking her head down the portal.

As he laid the first of the dead troopers on the ground outside the ship, he looked up at her. “Just stay out of the way,” he replied tightly. He continued transferring the bodies of his crew outside until all four were lying next to each other, Ryelle watching his progress from the co-captain’s chair. What she saw next filled her with awe.

Ren closed his eyes and lifted his hand toward the four men as the sands beneath them began to shift and swirl around their bodies, the soil swallowing them as they sunk beneath the surface of the desert floor. When their forms had been completely covered by earth, Ren stood still for a moment as he recovered his strength and gathered his thoughts, recognizing the import of losing his whole team with the exception of Pryde. He looked up to see her observing him, slack-jawed and sitting immobile in the cockpit.

~~~~~~

“It’s a total loss,” Ren informed her as he returned from inspecting the damage to the ship as night fell over Daxam IV. “The thrusters are shorn off, the repulsorlift array is trashed and the ion engine shroud is cracked,” he said, sounding dejected. “Even the hyperwave comm scanner is shot. It was housed in the wings, and those are long-gone. The only thing we have left that we might be able to salvage is the subspace communications antenna,” he ventured as he traced their landing path over a wide swath of the desert using the navigational logs. Ren processed his circumstances with anger. “This was sabotage,” he stated flatly.

“I think we should head to the nearest outpost and establish communication with my contacts,” Ryelle observed.

Ren was thoughtful for a moment. Remembering their main objective of finding the Amaxine outposts and that Ryelle had the contact information for their informants, he agreed.

“Fine,” he said decisively, “but first I’ll have to figure out what parts we need.” Consulting the proximity sensors, Ren commented, “Short-range scans show a settlement about thirty klicks from here. We’ll have to leave at first light tomorrow.”

As Ren returned to the comms antenna to determine what was needed for repairs, Ryelle opened her duffel case to remove the parka she had packed, as well as some other cold-weather clothing, bundling up against the encroaching chill that was seeping into the cabin through the structural damage the ship had sustained. While the cabin hadn’t been ripped wide-open, it was still fractured enough in places that the frigid atmosphere of Daxam IV was infiltrating the vehicle.

“Take this bunk,” Ren said when he returned, indicating the starboard cabin across from the one housing the medkit. She realized now that Ren had simply sent her on a fool’s errand earlier to get her out of the way as he ended the trooper’s suffering. In a way, she felt what he’d done for the trooper as well as her was a kindness since she would have been horrified to watch him kill a man in cold blood.

“Thank you,” she said, shutting the door behind her, determined to make as little of a nuisance of herself as possible, and not give Ren an excuse to accuse her of being soft or getting special treatment because of her father.

As Ryelle settled into the bunk and burrowed herself under the blankets to ward off the chill, the images of the day’s events came back to haunt her. Seeing death up close again brought her back to when she’d found her mother’s lifeless body in their quarters when she arrived home from school that fateful day. Larenne Pryde had succumbed to an addiction she’d tried and failed to beat many times, and Ryelle had forever believed she could have done more to help her mother.

Larenne had been addicted to spice, its high becoming a crutch against the sadness and loneliness of being the wife of an officer. Enric had dragged the family half-way around the galaxy as he pursued his career, and Larenne had found solace in a drug that wiped away all the uncomfortable feelings with which she couldn’t cope.

The problem was, when she was using spice, she wasn’t coping with anything else – not being a mother, or a wife, or even an addict. She couldn’t keep herself supplied on a regular basis because she couldn’t chance getting caught, and more than once Ryelle had found her mother battling withdrawal, never knowing what was really wrong with her until the day she’d overdosed. Larenne had gotten her hands on too strong a batch and taken too much, and when she’d died, everything came out in the open, nearly derailing Enric’s career.

To make things worse, Ryelle had felt responsible. Once her father explained everything to her, it all made sense to the point that she felt like she should have known all along. She should have figured it out and told her father, and then everything would have been fixed, just like she wished she could have fixed what happened to the troopers today.

Ryelle ridiculed herself for her wishful thinking, realizing the only person she could help now was herself, and being alone on this mission with Commander Ren, she needed all the help she could get.

~~~~~~

In his quarters across from Ryelle, Kylo Ren was too busy to notice her as he was dosing himself with what his body had been screaming out for over the past several hours – his spice. The first thing he’d done after closing the cabin door was pull out his kit and carefully measure the bare minimum amount he could tolerate while still leaving himself enough to hopefully last long enough to get more or get back to the _Finalizer_. He had several vials, but now that their mission was beset by complications, the stock of drug in his possession would have to last a lot longer than he’d anticipated.

Fear began to set in; he was alone with one junior officer who he’d essentially have to babysit, his troops were gone, they were on neutral, possibly unfriendly soil, and their ship wouldn’t get them off this world and back to the _Finalizer_. They would have to find transport off the planet somehow, and that’s only if they managed to survive the hostile climate.

Ren could feel the frigid air settling into the cabin and briefly considered whether Pryde would be alright. However, all thoughts began to slip from his mind as the effects of the spice took over his mind and body, lulling him into its trance…


	3. Journey

“Get your gear together, Pryde, we’re leaving,” Ren shouted at her cabin door.

His demeanor took Ryelle aback but she scrambled to gather her things and emerged from her cabin ready to go. She had packed her duffel carefully, paring down her kit to only what she’d need to survive the environment, and what she was willing to carry with her. Food, water, toiletries, medkit, and one change of clothing. She knew if she didn’t pack light, Ren would have something to say about it.

Ryelle met him at the bottom of the emergency hatch. Ren had a black pack over his shoulder as he stood at the ready. Ryelle was covered in heavy cold-weather gear from head to toe, not accustomed to such a frigid environment but prepared to face anything.

“I’m ready, Sir,” she said from behind her scarf, the words sounding muffled through the fabric. Ren stalked over to her and ripped the fabric from in front of her face, jerking her forward roughly.

“What?!” he asked sharply.

“I’m ready, Sir,” she stammered, trying to sound brave but failing miserably.

“You don’t look ready, Pryde, you look like you’re going to a fashion show! What is this?” he demanded sharply.

“I’m dressed for the weather, Sir,” she tried explaining logically.

“No, you’re not, Pryde!” he accused, “you’re going to get sweaty in that getup, and then you’re going to catch a chill, and then you’re going to get sick, and then you’re going to be a burden!” his voice rising with each accusation. “Get it together, Pryde, this isn’t the _Finalizer_ , this is the field! This is where the real world happens!” and he stalked away, leaving Ryelle to figure out what to do.

Ryelle pared down the layers to just one shirt under her parka, packing the other two away, and stuffing the gloves and scarf in her jacket pockets to save until she really needed them. Ryelle then had to run to meet up with Ren, his long strides carrying him almost a whole klick away by the time she’d gotten herself together.

~~~~~~

Ryelle was exhausted as they approached Dolom Outpost, field marches being a totally foreign experience to her, but she hadn’t complained or faltered once. She fell behind several times but would catch up before Ren could scold her, despite the fact that he showed her no leniency. He stopped only once during the entire journey, and then for only about half an hour.

Before arriving at the outpost, Kylo removed his helmet as he didn’t want to be recognized and blow their cover. Dressed as anonymous citizens, they should be able to blend in, and Ren sought out accommodations as night began to fall around them.

The buildings were low and stark, the drab adobe walls featuring almost no windows. Night was falling, and the dirt streets were nearly empty as the two travelers stood outside a small hostel on the outskirts of town, the exterior clean but spare. Inside, though, the lodgings were almost palatial. The innkeeper showed the two into a courtyard that was festooned with cold-hardy plants, mostly evergreens like miniature paan and veshok trees, and a bonfire was roaring at its center, a bulwark against the cold. Surrounding the courtyard were snug little doorways leading into the residences.

Ren engaged with the innkeeper, procuring lodgings for the night, but Ryelle was unable to overhear their conversation. The innkeeper handed Ren a key card, and as Ryelle waited for him to hand her one as well, Ren walked into a doorway and the innkeeper walked away.

 _Oh, no,_ she thought to herself, _he’s cheaping out – I’m going to have to share a room with him._ Ryelle was not happy about the prospect of possibly having to sleep on the floor after the long hike, but she followed Ren in, unflagging in her commitment to the mission.

However, what greeted her was near luxury. There was a central room with a fireplace surrounded by soft couches, tables laden with fruit and a tea set, decorative plants and colorful lighting, and even a hot, steaming communal bath fed by a spring. All of this was flanked by two more interior doorways, apparently leading to bedrooms. She saw one of the open doors was where Ren was settling in, so she opened the door opposite to discover a small but clean bed enveloped in a downy comforter. She longed to fall into its inviting comfort, but she was grimy from the long trek and she didn’t want to ruin its cleanliness with the dirt of the road.

Thankfully, Ryelle discovered a simple shower stall in a corner of her room. It was just a curtain surrounding a tiled base, but it was enough for her to scrub the filth from her skin and hair, and the hot, steamy water rejuvenated her as she sighed to herself, luxuriating in the sensation.

When she had dried off, she wrapped her towel around her slim figure and poked her head out of her room to see Ren’s door shut tightly, no light shining from underneath. Believing he’d gone to bed, she took advantage of the privacy to sink into the spring bath, the heated water soothing her aching muscles. She lay back against the edge of the pool and sighed, her towel folded beneath her head, and let her body float in the mineral-rich waters that bubbled up from underneath the building.

In his room, Ren unpacked his things, eager to fetch his kit from the bottom of his bag and dose himself to gain relief from the cravings that had plagued him all day. With no privacy and nowhere to be alone during their long trek across the flat sands of Daxam IV, Ren had been forced to forgo his regular injections. At least it would give him a chance to stretch out the doses and make them last longer, he thought. He also considered that he should try to obtain more while in the outpost, though he was sure in a backwater such as this, he wouldn’t be able to get the highly refined variety to which he was accustomed. He’d have to take whatever he could get his hands on, so long as it was pure.

The sting of the hypospray was a temporary discomfort in exchange for the bliss he felt when the drug’s effects kicked in.

Oh, good — he was relaxed, he was happy now, things were fine. He was sedate as he experienced the floaty sensation of the spice. It permeated his consciousness and lightened his limbs, and he stripped off his clothes before stepping into the steaming hot shower.

But still, he was sore, his old wounds worsened by the heavy pace he’d had to set in order to make Dolom Outpost by nightfall. Now that he was dosed, he showered away the dust of their trek, which made him think about how good it would feel to soak his whole, huge body in that mineral spa in the main room. It wasn’t often he was able to find a bath large enough for his muscular physique. It would be a treat to indulge himself for once.

When Ren opened his bedroom door, though, he stopped, forgetting for a moment he’d brought Pryde with him, and she now sat in the steaming pool. He hesitated, but then reasoned that the tub was big enough for ten people, let alone two. He could care less about her nakedness – he was buzzed from his hit of spice, and he hurt so bad, he didn’t care what she thought.

Ren approached the water with his towel wrapped around his waist, and Ryelle’s eyes widened in shock as she was unable to hide how astonished she was by his appearance. She saw his dark, tantalizing eyes, his intriguing face, his full, thick hair, and his chiseled physique that shocked her into silence despite the scars - or because of them. _Stars, his_ muscles _have muscles_ , she thought, and as he dropped his towel she observed the biggest muscle of all seemed to be the perversely oversized piece of meat between his legs. Regardless, no matter how attractive he was, she was extremely uncomfortable with the situation, and she knew it wasn’t appropriate for her to be naked in front of a superior officer. She reached for her towel, ready to vacate the water, when Kylo taunted her.

“No need to leave on my account, Princess,” he jeered at her as he stepped into the water, his nude form daring her to watch him. She sank back down in the water as she averted her gaze and said nothing, unwilling to give Kylo the satisfaction of driving her away.

“Now, isn’t that better?” he taunted her as he sank down into the water gracefully, draping his arms out along the edge of the tub, putting his head back and closing his eyes as he completely ignored her. Refusing to let him get the best of her, she stayed in the bath way longer than she was comfortable just to spite him, the two of them exchanging not a word.

Finally, Ryelle could tolerate the situation no longer since the enjoyment she’d been deriving from the warm water was ruined. Saying good night, she stepped from the tub, careful to cover herself as much as possible.

Ren looked up at her as she stepped out of the bath. “Just so we’re clear, this was not me coming on to you,” he chided her. “I’ve got more sophisticated taste in women.”

The jibe pricked at Ryelle’s dignity and she seethed at the unwarranted insult. She realized he must have mistaken her staring at him earlier for interest in his body. “Good,” she responded in kind, “because I only associate with decent men.”

“Oh, you mean men like Hux?” he sneered. “Somebody your Daddy will approve of?”

“Leave my father out of this!” Ryelle fumed at him, so worn out from the day that she was losing her temper. “Besides, Hux is more of a man than you’ll ever be!”

Ryelle regretted the words as soon as they’d left her mouth. She didn’t think all that much of Hux, especially not enough to defend him, but she knew better than to impugn a male’s manhood.

For his part, Ren was shocked - it was as if she didn’t know enough to be frightened of him. “Why you insolent little…” he grumbled under his breath as he climbed out of the water at lightning speed. “I’ll show you a man!”

Before she could run, Ren called on the Force to hold her captive. She struggled to escape, terrified and unable to move while gripped in place by unseen hands as she squealed in protest. “Let me go, you maniac! You’re crazy!”

Furious at her insults, he grabbed her by the arm, dragging her over to one of the couches where he sat down and pulled her over his lap, yanking the towel from her nude form and administering what he felt were several much-needed smacks to her backside, her wet, naked flesh resounding with a loud slapping noise. He reasoned that if she was going to act like a brat, he was going to treat her like one.

Ryelle shrieked in protest. “OW! Stop! How dare you!” she whined.

In an effort to evade his grasp, she kicked her legs, and Ren reached out with the Force to pin them down and keep her in place, thereby allowing him to finish the job he started. She continued crying out, real tears trickling down her cheeks now, so forceful were his strokes. His large hands administered no light beating to her slender frame and the pain was much harsher than she could have guessed, having never been beaten as a child. She was too upset and hurting too badly to notice Ren’s cock had started to harden and press into her belly, but he noticed, and when the skin of her pert ass was bright red and he felt he was done, he let go of her.

She scrambled up and glared at his face, her lip trembling in humiliation as she tried to cover her nakedness with her hands since her towel was behind him.

“Are you quite finished?” he asked with annoyance.

She nodded, the motion tiny but certain.

“Good, now go to bed!” he spat at her. She made for her towel, but Ren pulled it away from her grasp, holding it high up over her head. “No,” he said flatly, “you wanna act like a naughty girl, you’re gonna look like a naughty girl!”

“You’re absolutely horrid!” she shrieked at Ren.

“I didn’t start it, _Princess_!” he mocked her.

Ryelle had tolerated enough and escaped to her room, too afraid to stay in the same place with Ren any longer, and she slammed the door behind her.

Ren was incensed. No one had ever defied him so openly since he’d become Kylo Ren – _nobody_. And as far as he was concerned, daddy or no daddy, this girl _was_ a nobody.

He was stressed out now, and all he wanted was another fix; just a little, just enough to take the edge off.

Ren reached in his kit for one of the vials when he realized with horror – his supply was dwindling. He had just a few doses left, and he knew they would have to last him through tomorrow. After that, he would be without the one thing that had been helping him manage, helping him cope for the last several months.

He spent the rest of the evening lying in his bed, thinking about the mission, about finding the Amaxines, about their broken ship, and about Ryelle Pryde. He pictured her earlier, across his lap, her firm buttocks turning a delicious shade of scarlet under his unmerciful hand, how beautiful she sounded as she cried out for his mercy, her tears like nectar to his soul. It was even sweeter knowing she was Pryde’s daughter, that he was subjugating the child of one of his officers, even if the man technically outranked him. Eventually, Kylo knew he would become Supreme Leader, and then he would outrank every one of them, Hux included.

He wanted this mission over, but he realized with dismay that now he wanted Ryelle, too, but he didn’t know if he’d have access to her as easily on the _Finalizer_ as he did on Daxam IV. He needed to find a way to get her into his bed, and sooner than later, but for tonight he would have to pacify his needs himself, and he fell asleep only after he’d drained himself of his lust for Ryelle.


	4. Challenge

“We need this,” Kylo said, displaying a visual of a small circuit board he had isolated as the source of damage to the comms array.

The Snivvian parts dealer peered at Ren’s datapad from the other side of the table that served as his sales counter. The trader looked at it thoughtfully, and his eyes widened when he recognized it. "That's an SJFS part," the trader looked at Kylo knowingly, referencing the manufacturer who built most of the ships in Ren’s fleet. "That's First Order."

“Do you have it or not?” Kylo asked impatiently.

“I have one,” he said cryptically, making it sound as if he perhaps wasn’t willing to sell it.

“How much do you want for it?” asked Kylo.

“No, no, let’s not be so crude,” the dealer replied smoothly. “What about a trade, instead?” the Snivvian suggested to Kylo as he leaned over the counter, glancing over at Ryelle and licking his lips. She cringed at his suggestion.

“What?” Kylo spat, drawing the word out into almost two syllables, knowing exactly what the man meant, but giving the ugly being a chance to get out of it.

Instead, the fool doubled down.

“The girl,” he pointed at her. “How much do you think the girl is worth?” his lip curled in a sneer around his prominent fangs.

Ryelle blanched and swallowed hard, afraid the tensions between her and Kylo would make him only too happy to sell her off to the even the lowest bidder, but instead Kylo leaned his full height over the counter, intimidating the dealer.

“You will apologize to the lady,” he said in a low but threatening voice, almost as deep as that which his vocoder created.

Ryelle stared at the Commander, shocked by his chivalrous defense of her.

The Snivvian began to quake where he sat. “Apologies, lady,” he said shakily. “I mean– I didn’t think—” he stammered.

“That’s enough,” Kylo said. “We need the part; how much are you willing to accept for it?” he asked.

“Three thousand credits,” the trader said definitively as he sat back, folding his arms across his bulky chest.

The amount was extortion and Kylo wasn’t going to pay it. He also knew this species as one resistant to mind tricks, despite their lack of intelligence. They could not be persuaded with the Force, and he didn’t want to attract the undue attention a lightsaber would create.

“Let’s go,” Kylo said to Ryelle, and she instantly obeyed, only too happy to quit the Snivvian’s presence.

“Wait!” the dealer yelled after them as they turned to leave, “I’m probably the only one at Dolom Outpost who has that part!”

“We’ll take our chances,” Kylo replied, guiding Ryelle out the flap of the tent as the trader sunk back behind his sales counter.

“Do we not have three thousand credits?” Ryelle asked.

“No,” Ren responded. “I typically don’t carry credits at all because I don’t need to, but I do happen to have a thousand with me. Regardless, he’s asking way too much. That part should be seven fifty, tops, and I could have paid for it.”

As the two walked the bazaar for hours, passing stall after stall of useless trinkets, common foodstuffs and broken-down parts, Ryelle began to despair. What would her father be thinking at this moment? Would he be worried they hadn’t checked in as scheduled? Would he think she’d failed in their mission? Would he suspect it was her fault things hadn’t gone according to plan? She just prayed he didn’t get it in his mind to try and come rescue her – she’d be mortified.

“Stay here,” Ren commanded her as he stopped abruptly to slip down an alley where two men in strange red outfits were standing.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, not wanting to start another fight like the one they’d had last night.

She watched as Ren approached the two men and seemed to negotiate for something. The one shrugged and showed Ren something in his hand, which Ren seemed disappointed with, but it looked like an exchange was made anyway.

When he returned, he didn’t volunteer anything.

“Did you find the part?” Ryelle asked.

Ren looked down at her like she was naïve, and then shook his head. “No, no part. Let’s move on,” he said.

“Commander,” she suddenly chimed in. “I have an idea.”

“What?” he asked.

“The parts dealer, I think I can persuade him to work with us.”

“And what makes you say that?” Ren countered skeptically.

“I think I can convince him that if he doesn’t give us the part, the FOSB is going to come into his place of business and bust him for all the things we’ve been catching him doing wrong the past few months,” Ryelle explained, a brightness in her face.

“Doing wrong, like what?” he replied, his eyes narrowed.

“Like all the fake information I’m going to load into your datapad alongside his picture,” she said, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. “I’m also going to need my uniform. I want to look the part.”

“Alright, but this is going to be your play, Pryde – don’t screw it up.”

~~~~~~

Heading back into the parts dealer’s shop, Ryelle sported her smart but rumpled FOSB jacket, her sidearm visible as well as every other accoutrement she could manage to wear or carry in an effort to overwhelm the Snivvian by looking as official as possible. She’d changed her hairstyle and put some makeup on, hoping it would fool him into thinking she was someone completely different from earlier. Ren waited nervously outside, not ready to completely trust her but not having much choice as he didn’t want to tip the dealer off.

The parts dealer greeted her, seeming none the wiser.

“I understand you are holding some parts belonging to ships commissioned to the First Order fleet, are you not?” she demanded imperiously.

“Well, I might have some that are from a similar manufacturer,” he stammered, trying to obfuscate, “but they can look very close without being the same thing.”

“These in particular would be from Sienar-Jaemus Fleet Systems,” Ryelle stated, producing the datapad she’d borrowed from Ren. “You’re telling me you have none?”

“I mean, I might,” he continued squirming.

“In fact, I have here a list of illicit sales made by you over the last three months,” Ryelle turned the datapad screen toward him, showing him a list of infractions and a copy of a photo she had surreptitiously taken of him. “Do you know what this means?” she browbeat the Snivvian.

“Hey, no, look, those parts came from other traders, I’m just a reseller!” he exclaimed, holding his hands up in protest.

“If you turn the parts over now, we can make arrangements for you to be let off with a citation and a small fine,” she said.

The dealer looked beaten and pulled a small crate of parts out from underneath the counter. Only the topmost one was the circuit board needed to repair their comms unit, but Ryelle wasn’t going to turn down anything else that might be of use.

“Consider yourself warned,” she said sternly as she yanked the crate away from him. “If I ever catch you dealing in this kind of trade again, the First Order will make an example of you!”

She marched out of the shop, leaving the dealer withering behind her, and Ren met her a few stalls down, his face dropping in shock at her success.

“I’ll be honest,” he said as he took the crate from her, “I didn’t think you had it in you, Pryde.”

“Why?” she asked pertly as she shoved the box of parts at him, “because I’m a spoiled little daddy’s girl?”

Ren glared at her impertinence.

“Commander, I probably know more about _you_ than you know about _me_ ,” she said, feeling cocky from her win, “and I happen to know you also were raised by some rather high-ranking people, as well. I _do_ work for the FOSB, after all,” Ryelle gave him a knowing look. “Did you forget?”

“I’d like to,” he muttered and walked past her, carrying the crate in front of him.

They returned to their accommodations and the two of them looked at the tub, and then looked at each other.

“No fights tonight, promise?” Ryelle asked.

“Well, I don’t know,” Ren said doubtfully as he set the crate down. “It depends on how naughty you are,” his voice lowered as he walked over to her and reached out to start unbuttoning her jacket.

“Commander, what do you think you’re doing?” she asked, her face a mass of confusion as she pulled the edges of her clothing tight against his intrusion. “This isn’t appropriate. None of this,” she said, looking around the room, “has been appropriate.”

“Alright,” he said, angrily backing away. “You’re frigid, I get it,” he hurled at her and stomped off, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

In the privacy of his room, Ren dosed himself with the spice he’d obtained in the market, needing to placate his body’s demands for satisfaction. Unfortunately, he discovered it was a poor substitute for the highly refined strain he’d made his staple high. The weak powder simply teased him with its hint of euphoria and he went to bed frustrated in more ways than one.

~~~~~~

Ryelle ignored his tantrum and began sorting through the crate full of parts they’d obtained from the dealer. There was the circuit board on top, which she wrapped carefully in her scarf to cushion it against damage. There were also some other parts she didn’t recognize but hoped they would be of some use since they’d gone through so much effort to obtain them.

Satisfied that they’d accomplished at least part of their objectives at the outpost, Ryelle sent a signal to one of her informants and received confirmation of a meeting the next day.

Ryelle felt a sense of accomplishment, maybe even a sense of pride in herself. She was making things happen and as she settled into bed, she had hope they could turn around this mess of a mission after all.

~~~~~~

Ren lay in his bed, unable to sleep, thinking about Ryelle. She was such a tease. Such a prude. He remembered girls like her on Chandrila, girls he’d tried to get close to before his parents had shipped him off to his uncle. Spoiled, snotty, privileged girls who came on to him and then rejected him outright for the power trip. Who did she think she was? This was _his_ mission, he’d do as he damn well pleased.

Between his frustration and the side effects of the spice, Ren lost it. Ryelle had been teasing him, the parts dealer had been trying to play them for fools, the drug dealer sold him substandard spice. Everything was working against him, and something had to give.

It was then that Ryelle heard Ren smashing things in his suite, banging and thumping in anger, waking her from her light doze when she heard him stomping toward her room.

He pushed her door open so hard, it slammed into the wall with a jarring thud. His face was flushed, and he was sweating as he began pulling off his jacket.

Ryelle pulled the sheet up to cover herself since she was sleeping in only her underwear in order to keep her clothes clean for daytime.

“What… what do you want?” she asked, fear tingeing her voice.

He said nothin but stalked her down as she sat up in bed, dumbfounded. He continued disrobing, now down to only his trousers which he was also removing, his thumbs jammed in the waistband before he jerked down his legs.

“Oh, no! No, no, no!” Ryelle cried out in panic as she saw his erect penis spring from his pants. She scrambled away from him, slipping over the edge of the bed and putting the mattress between them as she backed up against the wall.

“Please, no, Commander! Think about what you’re doing!” she tried reasoning with him, believing he’d lost complete control of himself.

“I am,” he growled at her, “I’ve been thinking about it all day. You’ve been teasing me, you little whore,” he raged as he pointed accusingly at her, “and you’re going to give me what you’ve been flaunting in my face since you came on this mission!” He pulled her onto the bed, straddling her as he pressed himself against her, his rock-hard erection jabbing her in her abdomen.

“Please, Commander, let me go!" she pleaded, in shock at what he was doing, what he had accused her of. She was confused, because although she was afraid of him, she found she was strangely excited at what he was doing, intrigued by the way he was treating her, and then ashamed at the feelings his actions were instilling in her.

Ren ignored her objections and began tearing her panties off as she shut her eyes and willed the experience away. _This isn’t happening_ … she told herself, _he can’t be wanting to fuck me_.

“Oh, that’s more like it,” he said, his voice dripping with desire as his massive hands pulled off her tank top, releasing her ample breasts for him to view. He kneaded them hungrily, his mouth suckling hard on each nipple, and Ryelle fought the excitement that was building inside of her as he elicited her arousal.

She was now completely nude, and he was greatly anticipating everything he planned to do to her as he knelt over her on the bed, his enormous manhood as threatening to her as his lightsaber. Ryelle’s lip trembled but she tried not to cry out, and Ren taunted her mercilessly.

“What’s the matter, Princess? Daddy’s not here to protect you from the big boys, huh?”

“Please stop calling me that,” she chided him.

“Why? Because princesses don’t get fucked the way you’re about to?” he asked menacingly, his lush lips mere inches from her face. He could hear her inhale at the threat as he continued fondling her, the threat both terrorizing her psyche and inflaming her passion.

Ryelle was afraid. She’d been with very few men in her life, her experiences limited to the rare times she’d been able to sneak away from classes or duty rotations to catch stolen moments with a classmate in secondary school or a cute boy from the Academy. She’d rarely seen a man fully naked, and Ren was huge – everywhere. She was terrified of his ability to hurt her, not just with his hands, but his manhood too. If he thought he was going to put that inside her, he was sadly mistaken, because she just knew it wouldn’t fit, and then he’d be mad he was thwarted once again.

“Please, Commander, let’s not do this, please!” she begged, afraid she’d regret it if she let him have his way with her. She knew something was wrong with him, something outside the usual rage he carried with him, and she didn’t know why he was taking it out on her.

“Oh, this is going to happen whether you like it or not, little girl,” he said as he pressed his hand between her tightly clasped thighs. “Let me in,” he demanded angrily.

Ryelle struggled to comply, her body unwilling to follow where her mind couldn’t bring itself to go. “I c—can’t!” she cried to him.

Angered by her unwillingness to obey him, he grasped her knees with his strong hands and pulled her legs apart forcefully as she covered her mouth to stifle her screams, desperate to avoid another spanking.

“Was that so hard, giving me what I asked for? I would have thought you’d have learned to obey commands by now, or is that something you don’t feel applies to you? That being a General’s daughter makes you special?” he spat at her.

She shook her head ‘no’, her hand still over her mouth while tears streamed down the sides of her face where she could feel them pooling at the back of her neck. Ryelle covered her entire face, unable to deal with what was happening to her.

“That’s what I need, right there,” he said, his hand now cupping her womanhood and sliding a finger between her nether lips. “Oh, what a liar you are!” he exclaimed, drawing his hand up slowly to show her the wetness that trailed from his fingers. “You like this, you little whore! You like being treated like a slut!”

“No!” Ryelle protested, embarrassed that her body betrayed her, crying out against the wetness pooling between her legs. She denied the accusation, afraid it was true as she tried scrambling away from him, backing into the headboard.

Irritated by her retreat, Ren grasped her ankle and yanked her back into place. “Where are you going?” he demanded angrily, “I’m not done with you, I’m just getting started!”

Ren pulled her legs apart again and began stroking the head of his cock all around the wet entrance of her cunt and she realized with horror that despite her fear, or maybe because of it, she began to feel desire in her belly, and she had to stifle the urge to moan with pleasure.

“No, please! It will never fit, please don’t!” she implored him, still intimidated by the size of his penis.

He merely laughed at her. “Don’t worry about that, little girl, I’ll make it fit,” he threatened her. “I’m going to force it in and you’re going to love having every inch of it crammed inside your tiny hole.”

Ren pressed forward, his prick penetrating her entrance as he slowly lowered himself between her legs, his weight and strength keeping her from wriggling out from underneath him as she whined in pain and humiliation. He had staked her to the bed with his massive cock, and she’d swear she could feel it hitting her guts.

“No! No, no! Please, ow!!! It hurts, it hurts, oh, please! It burns!!” she whimpered and cajoled as his massive cock made her feel that she was being torn open, her pussy never having accommodated anything that large before.

“Shhhh, hold still,” he commanded her quietly, as he tried exercising some self-control. She was grateful for the respite as he held himself still inside her, giving her body a moment to adjust to his girth as she breathed through the pain, but finally, he could stay immobile no longer.

Ren began thrusting away atop her and she could feel a warmth growing deep inside of her chasm as the head of his prick stroked the special spot up inside of her, but the pain was still there. Although her body relaxed around his thickness, the repeated intrusion of his enormous member began to burn her tender flesh.

He fucked her for what felt like hours, changing positions several times, grunting in frustration and even stroking himself rapidly at several points. She was grateful for the occasional respites, but Ren kept invading her over and over, until finally he cursed in anger.

“Get up!” he ordered Ryelle, who climbed off the bed, a heavy ache overwhelming her pelvic area. Ren took her place on the bed and he pulled her over to him, positioning her over his lap. “Fuck me,” he commanded her breathlessly.

She hesitated but feared to disobey him, so she positioned his manhood beneath her and gently lowered herself onto his thick flesh, wincing as her tender insides screamed in protest until her cunt relaxed around him. She rode him, trying to accommodate his cock as it penetrated her even more deeply in this position and she was afraid she would have an orgasm if she kept riding him in this position.

“Please let me stop,” she begged, not wanting him to know she was enjoying having him inside her.

“Not until I get off,” he grunted as he fucked her back from underneath, sweat pouring down his body as he struggled to find his climax.

Ryelle continued stroking her cunt up and down his member until finally her body would hold back no longer and it forced her to accept wave after wave of her cunt clasping and moistening around his cock. She hid the pleasure she had achieved, wincing to keep her eyes closed and choking down the moans of pleasure threatening to escape her throat.

She was hoping he’d finish soon as well, though he didn’t seem to be showing any sign of it. What was wrong with this man? When she looked down at him, she noticed him gritting his teeth as sweat continued to pour down his face. She remembered hearing that men who used certain drugs were unable to achieve climax. Was he on something? She couldn’t imagine since he seemed so healthy.

“FUUUUCK!” he hollered, pushing her off of him in frustration. “Kneel!” he commanded her, pointing to the floor. His order made her both angry and excited at once, but her sense of self-preservation won out and she complied. His cock was still highly erect, and he grabbed her by the hair, dragging her face next to his groin. “You’re going to make me cum tonight, one way or another! Open!” he yelled at her.

The command brought a flush of adrenaline to her belly, despite feeling that his treatment of her was cruel. On her knees, Ryelle parted her lips as far as she could to accommodate him and Ren did the rest, squeezing her cheeks which mashed the insides of her mouth against her teeth as he pried her jaw open. Having made himself another hole to fuck, he thrust his thick, muscular member between her lips and crammed it into the back of her throat. She gagged, nearly vomiting as she struggled to breathe as she sucked at him, trying not to scrape him with her teeth lest he get angry and punish her. She inhaled the aroma of his musk, getting lost in the feel of him as she stroked his buttocks, holding herself steady.

“Suck me hard!” he shook her head by her hair as he slammed himself into her face, his fingers wrapped in her long tresses, using them to control her like a rag doll, the feeling of helplessness stirring something deep inside Ryelle. He pumped his groin into her face over and over, and she was losing the ability to keep up with the demands he was placing on her. Finally, she began to waver, her legs giving out from underneath of her.

“Get back up here!” he shrieked at her, “I’m not done!”

“I can’t,” Ryelle gasped, collapsing on the floor and refusing to get back up. Ren capitulated, realizing that despite the fact that he’d been having his way with her for nearly two hours, he wasn’t going to be able to get off, no matter what he did. The spice had interfered with his ability to achieve orgasm, even though his lust for Ryelle was driving him mad.

He stomped from the room, leaving her lying prostrate in the middle of the floor, heedless of the injury he’d done to her, and returned to his room where he desperately tried to bring himself to orgasm on his own, climax still escaping his reach. He was fuming, unable to deal with the overwhelming cravings for his drug, his raging libido, his feelings of rejection and anger. He finally gave up, collapsing in bed as sleep eluded him.

Ryelle couldn’t sleep, either. She was horrified at what Ren had done to her and how her body had reacted so strongly to him. She showered, wanting to remove any trace of the evidence of their coupling, for every time she smelled him it brought back the conflicting feelings. She was beginning to regret having taken this mission, and if she returned alive with no other incidents, she’d consider it a success no matter what happened with the intel.


	5. Information

Ryelle awakened after what felt like a long time. She glanced at her commlink to see that it was almost mid-morning and the meeting with her first informant was after mid-day. Frankly, she was surprised Ren hadn’t come and woken her up, dictator that he was. Maybe he felt guilty about what he’d done to her and was too ashamed to face her. She could only hope…

She took another shower to clean up, but she feared she couldn’t ever wash herself enough to feel clean from the way he’d touched her. She dressed in preparation for her meeting and considered sneaking out to handle the meeting on her own without Ren until she heard him in the common area. She waited in her room until the last possible moment and then snuck out to find him sitting on a sofa and facing the fireplace.

She kept her gaze low, unable to look him straight in the eye.

“Well, good morning, Pryde,” Kylo greeted her brazenly as he rose from the couch, smirking at her. “I feel much better today after a good fuck and a decent night’s sleep. How about you?”

“I wouldn't know," she sneered at him, feeling like she'd been run over by a troop transport and aghast that he had the gall to address her with such bravado.

Kylo came around to stand behind Ryelle and wrap his arms around her. “It’s alright,” he whispered in her ear, “you’ll become accustomed to it eventually.”

Ryelle cringed, nearly breaking down in tears at the thought of Ren manhandling her again. _Don’t cry, don’t cry,_ she repeated to herself while she felt she was in the middle of a nightmare that she couldn’t wake from. How had she found herself in this position? She wondered if the other troopers had survived, would she still have been subjected to this kind of mistreatment by Ren, or would he have been afraid to do such things in proximity to his men? Was it always going to be like this on missions, whether it was Ren or someone else? She began to regret her choice of career path if this was what awaited her in her future.

After Ren let her go, she packed up her things and prepared for her meeting with the informant, hoping something would start going right on this mission from hell.

~~~~~~

Ryelle had set the meeting with the informant at a small teahouse, the interior dark and exotic as steaming pots of water with all manner of plants and other organic matter steeped in them, created a mélange of scents in the small, low rooms. Kylo had to duck his head as he followed behind Ryelle, covering her back.

The teahouse was heated by a multitude of fires over which teapots hung, and the warmth was welcome. Ryelle cupped her hands around a large mug of Tarine tea full of milk and honey, while Ren drank a cup of caf, the beverage in his mug unadulterated by sweeteners and such. Neither of them spoke as they sipped their beverages, waiting for the contact to arrive.

Finally, the informant appeared and sat across from Ryelle, seemingly disturbed by the presence of another individual.

“Who is this,” the Pamarthean asked suspiciously as he indicated Ren, the cowl of his greatcoat pulled down so low over his face, Ryelle could hardly recognize him from his profile photo.

“He’s my bodyguard,” Ryelle replied, not skipping a beat. Ren, however, was taken aback, but didn’t respond. “A lady like myself must take precautions on a planet such as this,” she replied evenly.

“Heh, heh,” he laughed in agreement, “especially such a pretty lady as you,” he smiled as he put the cup of tea Ryelle had poured for him to his lips and drained the contents.

“Thank you for meeting me,” she said softly, changing the subject. “I take it you had no trouble obtaining what we discussed?”

“None whatsoever,” he reassured her as he leaned on the table, his large fur-trimmed sleeves taking up a good deal of the space as he drank deeply of the rich brew. “You realize that this information cannot be traced back to me?” he asked, looking for her reassurance as he surreptitiously slid a datachip out of his sleeve and palmed it against the table.

Ryelle leaned forward to set her mug down on top of the chip as she herself palmed a packet of credits into the spy’s now-empty mug.

“I don’t know who you are, and you were never here,” she stated simply. They nodded to each other and the man carried the mug with him as he stepped away, melting into the crowd as he exited the establishment. Ryelle sat back, calmly finishing her tea, Ren having already drained his caf moments ago.

“Bodyguard, huh?” he asked, sounding annoyed.

“Would you rather I told him the truth?” she asked matter-of-factly. Ren merely grunted in reply.

“When’s the next drop?” he asked, seeming impatient.

“This was the only one I was able to set a meeting with so far,” she advised Ren. “My other two contacts went dark on me. I’ll have to keep trying them.”

“In that case, go back to our rooms,” he ordered her as he handed her the keycard, “I’ll meet you there later.”

Ryelle seemed perplexed at his command, but stashed the chip and the keycard in an interior pocket and did as Ren instructed her, grateful to have an excuse to leave him behind at the table.

She was cautious departing the teahouse, concerned she may be followed. She hadn’t been assigned much field work yet and this was her first unsupervised mission. Although Ren was a miserable bastard, he at least provided a good measure of security and she felt a bit lost without his strong stature hovering over her shoulder.

Reaching their rooms, she sighed with relief once she arrived safely and holed up in her room, waiting for Ren to come back, falling asleep before she could hear him return.

~~~~~~

Ren crept into their lodgings quietly so that he wouldn’t wake Ryelle. He didn’t want to be interrupted on his way to his room where he would be able to quell the craving in his body for the spice that was keeping him hostage. Now that he was unable to locate a reliable source of high-quality spice as he had back on the _Finalizer_ , he was starting to realize how much his body was becoming enslaved to the drug. He thought he was in control of the precious powder he’d been relying upon, but when their mission went sideways, it threw everything into chaos, forcing him to come to terms with his predicament.

As the hypospray delivered him much-needed relief, Ren sighed raggedly. He nearly sobbed as his body relaxed into the satisfying ecstasy and he had to grab onto the wall in order to stop himself from collapsing to the floor.

~~~~~~

Ryelle eventually heard back from one of her Amaxine informants, the comm unit waking her from a sound sleep in the early morning hours. They set a meeting for later in the day and Ryelle tried to go back to sleep but couldn’t. Fear and anxiety of making another meeting that could potentially go bad filled her mind with dread.

She paced the floor, trying to decide if it was too early to wake Ren and tell him about the meeting until finally, she could hear him moving about in his room and knocked at the door, hoping he’d be in a decent mood.

“What?” he barked at her as he yanked the door open, greeting her in only his pants, his arms spread wide as he braced himself between the door jambs.

“I— we have a meeting today, one of my informants turned up,” she managed to choke out.

“What time?” he asked.

“Eleven-hundred, same place,” she replied.

Ren leaned against the door jamb and crossed his arms. “Is that wise?” he asked.

“I know,” she conceded, “I don’t like going back to the same location either, but she insisted. Said she wasn’t comfortable anywhere else.”

Ren’s face drew tight with concern. “Alright, I’ll be ready,” he replied, shutting the door in her face.

He was annoyed Ryelle bothered him so early. He wasn’t ready to be awake, but now that she got his mind working over the next meeting, he needed spice. He considered the small amount left in his kit, panicking at the dwindling supply he had to work with. Still, he picked up the hypospray he’d prepared for his morning dose, and it coursed through his veins once he injected the drug in his neck. His pain started to subside, his anxiety lowered and Ren’s world got easier to live in.

~~~~~~

As the appointed hour approached, Kylo and Ryelle found themselves in front of the teahouse once more, Ren looking on edge and Ryelle focused on the task at hand.

“You go in first,” Kylo whispered to her as they approached the alcove ensconcing the entrance to the teahouse as he hung back at the edge of the entryway. “I want to scout things out here, watch this woman come in. This doesn’t feel right to me.”

Ren’s assessment made her nervous, but she choked down her anxiety and nodded at him in reply. She didn’t want his suspicions coloring her interaction with the informant, though she was appreciative of his alertness. Maybe he was just jumpy?

Ryelle entered the teahouse the same as she did the day before, nodding to the proprietor. The woman stopped wiping down mugs for a moment to give her a smile. “Same table as yesterday?” the elderly woman asked.

“If it’s available, please,” Ryelle responded.

After she seated Ryelle, she brought the mugs and a pot of strong-smelling tea. Ryelle lifted the lid to look at the contents.

“Deychin tea, special of the day,” the proprietor announced in her thick Daxamian accent, rather loudly for the confines of the room, which Ryelle thought odd. Her senses were now on alert and she leaned on every technique she could remember from the Academy to assess the situation and protect herself against failure.

Ryelle had her back against the wall which gave her a better vantage point to everything going on around her, including the advance of her informant once the woman finally approached, the promised Eriaduan shellwork pin visible on her wide brown lapel.

“The tea has been steeping for a long time,” Ryelle said, giving the code phrase.

“Good,” her informant replied breathlessly, “that means it will be strong.” The response satisfied Ryelle’s challenge but not her sense of timing.

“You’re late,” Ryelle admonished the woman, observing the informant’s flushed complexion as she poured her a cup of tea, pushing the honey and milk across the table with it.

“Sorry, I couldn’t get away without making a scene,” she answered, taking the cup appreciatively between her chapped hands.

“So,” Ryelle said, stirring her tea languidly, trying to appear relaxed, “did you bring what you promised?”

“No, I couldn’t get it,” the informant replied, not looking Ryelle in the eye when she said it.

Something was wrong.

Ryelle shifted her gaze left toward the front door, seeking any sign of Ren, but finding none. She decided to try distracting the woman.

“Where were you coming from?” she asked, knowing what the answer was supposed to be, but curious to see what she’d say.

“Um, well, today I was leaving from my job, so I wasn’t able to come the way you told me,” she said. Ryelle could tell from her Security Bureau training that this woman was lying – and she suspected this wasn’t even her original informant.

“Well, in that case, why don’t you just tell me what you can,” Ryelle offered.

“Better yet,” the woman offered almost too eagerly, draining her mug, “I can have you come by my hut later, I can give it to you then.” She set the mug down as she made her offer.

“I don’t think so,” Ren said as he abruptly joined them, leaning over the table, his gloved hands splayed across the grainy wood finish.

The woman startled, and that’s when everything went to hell.

A shot rang out and Ryelle’s eyes followed the flash to see the ‘informant’ holding a small pistol. But something was wrong. Ryelle felt like she’d been punched in the arm and it was burning. As she looked down to her left, the scorch mark in her parka showed she woefully underestimated her injury.

Ren moved quickly then, grasping the woman by the neck, her arm twisting behind her, seemingly of its own volition as the pistol dropped to the ground. He rammed her head against the back wall of the room, a sickening ‘crack’ sounding in the din of the excitement caused by the sudden ruckus in what was an otherwise peaceful place.

Ren looked at Ryelle, eyes wide as he breathed deeply.

“Run.”

Ryelle didn’t hesitate, didn’t stop to bandage her arm — she just sprinted for the rear exit they’d scouted out ahead of time, tracing the path back to their lodgings she’d mapped out for herself days before. She was grateful now that she’d spent the time to provide herself a backup plan.

The pounding of her feet on the packed sand sent bursts of scorching pain through her arm and shoulder. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes, but she pressed them back, determined not to give in until she was safe.

She slowed down as she approached their lodgings and tried to look nonchalant as she strode to their room. That was when she realized – Ren had the only key. However, she needn’t have waited long. As she pressed herself into the recess surrounding their doorway, she heard Ren’s strong strides catching up to her.

Key in hand, his arm reached past her and sent the door crashing open.

“Get your stuff, we’re clearing out. Go, go!” he commanded her.

She rushed to pack up, committed to leaving no trace nor anything behind. She verified the datachip she’d gotten from the first informant as well as the comms part they’d swindled out of the parts dealer were both safely tucked away in her inner jacket pockets.

“Double-check,” Ren called to her as he began clearing her quarters, and she went in to clear his, her eyes sweeping over furniture, under the bed and all through the room to ensure they’d gotten everything.

“Alright,” she confirmed, “we’re clear.”

“Let’s go,” he said, leading the way from their residence as they made their way out of Dolom Outpost. Their only other sanctuary was ten hours away on foot, and it was already mid-day. Ryelle began to feel their luck had finally run out.


	6. Return

“Keep up, Pryde,” Ren called back to her as she fell behind for the third time.

“Yes, sir,” Ryelle answered back between gasps, struggling to keep her pack centered and her momentum going as her legs trudged across the desert floor with determination. She marched in silence behind him, struggling to maintain the pace even more so this time with her arm damaged, but Ren didn’t cut her any slack. He was moving at a rapid clip, not looking back at Ryelle as he plunged ahead.

“Commander, can we please stop, just for a moment?” Ryelle begged as she fell behind once again, unable to keep up with Ren’s long strides.

“No, Pryde,” he snarled at her, “not unless you want to get your ass shot off. Now, MOVE!”

“But Commander, my arm,” she pleaded, leaning over and bracing herself against her knees. As Ren looked back to chastise her, he saw it for the first time – there was a scorched hole in the left arm of her parka; she’d been shot at the teahouse after all. He’d heard the pistol go off but didn’t notice Ryelle had been hit.

 _How did I miss THAT?_ he wondered to himself, but then realized that he’d missed a lot of things on their last operation and he knew it was because he was high on spice. Just like he’d missed the informant entering the teahouse, missed the subtle warning signs that all was not well, missed the stirrings in the Force that would have told him Ryelle was in danger. His connection to the Force was being eroded by his deepening dependence on the spice, and he knew he needed to do something about it sooner than later.

A pang of guilt washed over him, but he pushed it aside as he turned back to kneel down and look at her wound. It was raw and open, and how she’d made it this far without complaining the whole time he didn’t know, because he knew he would have. They’d been hiking for three hours non-stop so far.

“Okay, Pryde, hang on,” he said solicitously, digging in his pack for a medkit. “I’m going to have to patch you up quick, and then we need to get back on the move. I know it’s not ideal, but it’s what we’ve got to work with.”

“I know we’re not going to make it back before sundown,” she reassured him as she pulled her jacket off so Ren could help her. “We left too late in the day, but I’ll be alright. I just may not be able to make good time.”

Ren wasn’t sure _he_ was going to be alright. He had one dose of spice left and he’d been saving it for tonight.

“Lay down,” he commanded her. It would be easier to work on her from a stable position but it also made his loins stir to see her lying underneath him again as a picture flashed in his mind of the way she’d looked the other night lying in her bed as he took her.

He shook off the memory to examine her wound. It wasn’t fatal, but it was messy and he knew it had to be painful, the flesh burned and blistered around the edges and the muscle and a small bit of bone showing through the center.

“This is going to hurt,” he warned her. She nodded and gripped her parka underneath of her, shutting her eyes.

Ren sprayed an antiseptic over the exposed flesh and then poured a small vial of bacta into the wound before layering a bandage over it. He heard a sharp intake of Ryelle’s breath and then no more as he watched her grit her teeth against the agony he was sure she was in. She had turned pale and beads of sweat gathered at her hairline as she raggedly exhaled.

“Thank you,” she whispered as the piercing burn calmed to a raging ache. She sat up and carefully drew the parka back over her arm.

“You sure you can put your pack back on?” he asked.

“Yes, I’ll just hang it over my other shoulder,” she volunteered.

“No, give it to me,” Ren ordered her.

“I can do it, Commander,” she argued with more conviction than she possessed.

“I know you can, but so can I, and you’ll make better time without it,” he said firmly as he pulled the pack from her grasp, laying it over his own. “Let’s keep moving.”

The two officers trudged through the Daxam IV wastes toward their derelict ship, stopping only one other time to relieve themselves and rehydrate.

They ate a small meal of rations and water, the silence between them deafening. As they sat drinking from their canteens, Ryelle noted Ren’s eyes looked strained, dark bags underneath and his complexion sallow.

Finally, he broke the quiet. “I need to take care of something,” he said cryptically.

“Yeah, uh, me too,” Ryelle responded. There was a small ridge close by, and it would do to give them privacy for their personal needs.

“You go first,” he offered.

Ryelle didn’t take long, the frigid air feeling none too good on her nether regions, so she was quick.

Ren switched places with her when she returned, lifting his pack and carrying it with him behind the ridge, which Ryelle thought was odd, but she thought a lot of things Ren did were odd. Unconcerned, Ryelle took in the surrounding landscape of Daxam IV. It was nearly barren, having no trees or bushes, only patches of lichen here and there and the occasional outcropping of rock. Ryelle looked at her comm, noting the time.

Ducking behind the small outcropping, Ren dosed himself with the last of the spice he’d obtained in the marketplace, needing to placate his body’s demands for satisfaction.

Feeling the encroaching chill of the night as the first of Daxam IV’s twin suns had set, Ryelle put on her insulating layers, scarf and gloves as she waited for Ren. He seemed to be taking quite a while, and Ryelle wondered how badly he’d needed to relieve himself when his head finally popped back up over the ridge, his hand straightening his collar.

He seemed different to Ryelle when he returned; more docile, more relaxed, and his eyes suddenly seemed much better than when he’d stepped away. Even his ever-present scowl had softened a bit. _He must have really needed to go,_ she ventured.

Once they were ready, Ren put them back on a heavy march, seeking to make the shuttle as soon as possible, though he knew there was no way they would beat nightfall. He knew a forced march would jar Pryde’s arm, but it couldn’t be helped. It was either endure pain or freeze to death, and he wasn’t ready to leave his corpse lying on the Daxam IV wastes.

Ren figured that if things went well, they would arrive back at the shuttle only two hours past sundown. If they could push through the sub-freezing conditions for that long, they would make the shuttle, and he could tell that Pryde was taking it as seriously as he was.

Occasionally, Ren would check behind them, stopping to hide their tracks by using the Force to move the soil, effectively masking their trail.

At one such moment, she looked up at Kylo and noticed a sheen of sweat on his neck that hadn’t been there before. She thought it odd since, bundled up as she was, even _she_ wasn’t sweating in the frigid temperatures, but then she considered that he was now carrying both their packs and wearing a mask, which could have accounted for it. She was actually a bit jealous of his head protection, but her goggles and headgear were doing an adequate job so far.

Eventually, the last of the dwindling twilight disappeared completely from the horizon, forcing Ryelle to stick as close by Ren’s side as she could in order not to become lost in the dark. Daxam IV had no moon, so it was only the stars that provided any light in the night sky, although not enough to light the landscape. She was grateful for the flatness of the Daxam IV desert since it left little in the way of topography that could trip her.

 _One—two, one—two,_ Ryelle counted off to herself as she and Kylo continued their desperate bid to make the shuttle before they succumbed to the planet’s conditions. The pounding of her steps sent a spear of fire though her arm every time her heel landed, though the soft desert sand helped cushion it to some extent and eventually the pain just melded into one solid stream of burning.

At one point, Ryelle fell behind, calling to Ren in the darkness.

“Commander?!” she shouted as she tried catching her breath.

“Here, Pryde,” he doubled back to the sound of her voice.

“Commander, please” she pleaded as she plopped down on her backside, pulling her scarf down, the bitter cold clawing at her cheeks as she panted for breath. “Can I just stop for a minute, please just let me sit and rest.”

Ren could see she was beginning to falter and knelt down next to her. Regretfully, he slapped her, first one cheek, then the other. “No, Pryde!” he berated her, “wake up! If you stop, you’ll never get back up and you’ll die!” He stood, pulling on her good arm to get her on her feet. “You’ve got to push through, now, let's go!”

She jerked her scarf back up to protect her face from the icy needles of cold that were penetrating every layer of her clothing. It seemed like hours went by until eventually her fingers and toes started to tingle, despite the excellent insulating quality of her First Order-issue gloves and boots, and she worried about frostbite.

“How much further?” she asked the Commander.

He looked down at his commlink, the homing beacon tied to the shuttle flashing through brightly. “I think we’re almost on top of it, Pryde,” he reassured her, himself sounding relieved.

If she’d had the energy she would have whooped with joy, the news itself giving her a sense of victory that inspired her to keep marching, and the last half-hour of their journey, though extremely cold, went by quickly.

~~~~~~

After dropping their packs and getting settled in, Ren pulled out the large medkit and found what he could to treat Ryelle’s wound.

She lay on her side in her bunk, allowing Ren to doctor her. As he unwound the hasty bandage he’d wrapped around her during their journey, she winced and looked away, still as silent as possible. Ren appreciated that she wasn’t screaming and whining in his ear.

To be fair to her, Ren had come to realize she hadn’t been that kind of girl. He’d assumed she was going to be a detriment, a burden on him and the mission, but she hadn’t been.

“First time?” Ren asked her, his face free of the mask. Ryelle could see the sweat still pouring down his face and his hands shook a bit as he worked the old bandage off.

“First time what?” she asked, confused. She was exhausted, and nothing was making sense right now.

“First time you’ve been shot,” he replied, throwing the bloody fabric away.

“Yes,” she replied with regret. “I hope it’s my last.”

“It won’t be,” he said, “not if you’re going to work in the field. Didn’t they tell you that?” he asked as he looked up at her face.

“Not in so many words,” she replied, sucking in her breath as he rinsed her wound again. She tried to bury her face in her pillow and Ren could see her lip trembling.

“It’s alright to cry, Pryde,” he reassured her. He knew half the troopers in the First Order would have been whining like babies right about now.

“No,” she replied tightly through her teeth. “I’m not a spoiled little daddy’s girl.”

“Nobody said you were,” he replied.

“No,” she said smartly, “but you thought it, didn’t you? Admit it. Just like everybody else—argh!” she gritted her teeth and clenched her fists as Ren poured a more generous amount of bacta into the raw hole about the width of a jogan fruit that the pistol’s blast had left in her arm. He put a better bandage on the wound, securing it with a clean wrapping.

“Once we get back to the Finalizer, we can get you patched up better, keep that from scarring,” Ren tried reassuring her.

“Thank you, Commander,” she said, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bunk. “I have to ask; do you think we were followed?”

Ren would have liked to have been able to feel what was going on around them during their flight from Dolom Outpost, but his spice use had begun to interfere so much with his Force sense that he couldn’t give her an honest answer. So he lied to her.

“No, I’m betting they’re still looking around town for us, no idea we’re out here. Now get some rest, Pryde, we’ll get the comms array up and running tomorrow.”

As Ryelle lay awake in her bunk, gently rubbing her extremities to work out the frostbite that had started setting in, she thought about the challenges that now lay in front of them, the fatigue and fear combining to keep her from sleep. Would they now be able to fix the transmitter or would they need to make their way to another outpost and find transportation back to the fleet, their mission a failure? She was disappointed at the thought of having to return to her father empty-handed. She couldn’t face him with her first major mission in defeat, she just couldn’t. Eventually, she was able to drift off to sleep, her fears and anxieties giving her a brief but merciful respite.

Ren, however, was anything but sleepy. He was now completely out of spice, having taken his last hit on the trek back with Pryde. He’d been unable to score any more while at the Outpost and he was already starting to feel the ill effects. He had to get the transmitter fixed and a message back to the fleet, fast, or they were going to be in serious trouble.


	7. Withdrawal

The next day, the two of them worked in almost total silence, Ren using a welding tool to solder the new circuit board into the comms array while Ryelle monitored the power linkage.

As she glanced over at Ren, she noticed sweat beading up on his lip, which she found odd since it was cold outside; frightfully so. She was bundled within her parka, the scarf that Ren hated around her neck and her hands encased in highly insulated gloves, while Ren was still dressed in the same uniform he’d worn since they’d landed – his padded gambeson, cloak, shirt sleeves and trousers.

“Aren’t you cold?” she ventured.

He looked sideways at her, and she thought she saw that the pupils of his eyes were very dilated. Or was that just the deep brown and she couldn’t differentiate it?

“It’s none of your concern,” he brushed her aside brusquely.

“I have another scarf—“

“I said I’m FINE,” he snapped at her, his breathing quick and shallow, sounding like he was enraged as he gasped rapidly. She wondered if the physical exertion of the last week was getting to him or he was just very angry, so she decided to leave him be. However, she continued to hear his labored breathing and she knew he wasn’t calming – in fact, he was getting worse, his hands trembling as he tried to work. As he continued to wield the welding tool, his twitching increased as the moments passed.

She turned to look at him and saw sweat was now running down both sides of his face, his bangs wet with perspiration and he reached down to undo the fastener on the neck of his jacket.

“Commander, what’s wrong?” she asked, true concern in her voice.

He swallowed hard and climbed down from his position at the nose of the ship, trying not to meet her gaze as he stomped off to his quarters. She heard sounds of him banging around the cockpit and cursing until finally, he lost his temper and threw something against a wall. She cringed, afraid he’d come back out and she’d be the next victim of his anger. Instead, she heard him grunting. Had he broken his hand by punching something? She stayed put, not wanting to provoke him further.

He remained in the ship, his vocalizations increasing. Maybe he’d eaten something bad and was having stomach issues, but that wasn’t likely – they’d been eating rations, perfectly clean and healthy food, if not bland.

*BANG*

 _Now, what?_ Ryelle thought to herself, but then what she heard afterward chilled her to the bone. Kylo Ren, the deadly Commander of the First Order, _cried out._ Something was very wrong.

She climbed back into the ship and crept to where his bunk was to find him curled up on the floor, clutching his midsection. He was pouring sweat now and his face was contorted in a grimace as he struggled with whatever was plaguing him.

“Commander?” Ryelle called to him in an urgent voice as she knelt by his side, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

“Leave me alone!” he spat at her.

“Commander, I can’t, something’s wrong. What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere!” he cried out, a renewed surge of pain engulfing him as he began hyperventilating.

Ryelle was at a loss until she spied what she suspected had made the loud noise, something he’d thrown against the wall - it had landed on the floor close by. Reaching over, she picked up the small black case.

“No!” he raged at her as she stood up, unclasping the catch on the case. What she saw inside filled her with dread – there, tucked into the lining, lay three empty vials, a light coating of dusty brown staining the insides, along with a well-used hypospray tool. She realized with horror — it was a fix kit.

She shuddered as a distant memory echoed back to her; that of her mother, going through one of her many withdrawals before Ryelle had finally found her mother overdosed.

Ryelle leaned over and lifted one of Ren’s eyelids, taking a second hard look at his pupil. It was blown wide open this time, meaning there was no doubt about what was happening to him.

She knelt down where he lay on the floor, tremors overtaking him. “What drug do you use?” she asked urgently.

“Just leave me be!” he gasped. “Please!”

“Commander, you’re going through withdrawal, I can tell! What do you take?!”

“Spice, alright? Argh!” he cried out again, writhing in discomfort as a fresh wave of pain gripped him.

“Is this your stash?” she asked him harshly, shoving the case in front of his eyes.

“Yes, I’m out!” he exclaimed as he gritted his teeth and doubled over, curling into a fetal position and clasping at his abdomen.

Ryelle surmised his stomach must be cramping and she panicked. They were in the middle of nowhere with only basic medical supplies and no communications, when what he really needed was to be sedated and put under strict monitoring. This process was not going to be easy and she knew that he could very well die; his heart could stop or he could suffer brain damage or any other number of things, and she was powerless to help him.

Should she leave him behind and go for help? Day was ending, and the temperature on Daxam IV would reach sub-zero levels for the fourteen-hour span that constituted nighttime on the planet. Without the proper gear or a vehicle for transportation, she’d never make it anywhere on foot to get him help before she would freeze to death.

“You’re about to be very sick, and you need to let me help you,” she instructed him. “Let’s get you into bed.”

“No,” he gasped, “leave me here.”

“I can’t, I need to keep an eye on you, I can’t do that from the floor,” she explained to him. “I’ll help you up.”

“No,” he moaned, “let me sleep.”

“As if,” she retorted angrily, “You won’t be sleeping anytime soon, anyway.”

Ryelle pulled Ren up to a sitting position and then, gripping him around his chest, she counted to herself: _one, two, THREE!_ and hauled his massive stature up with all her might, just enough to drag him over to his bunk where she deposited him hard onto the mattress, his long legs trailing on the floor as he continued grunting in distress.

She gasped from the exertion and the pain in her arm but still managed to lift his legs up onto the bunk with the rest of him, locating the latches on his boots and tugging at the large footwear to pull them off of him, despite his protests.

Ryelle then went into to the refresher and retrieved the large medkit he’d used on her last night, taking an inventory of what was in it, though she knew there wasn’t enough to truly matter.

“Go away,” he moaned at her as she came back and laid the case on a shelf opposite his bunk.

“Not right now,” she refuted him. “I’m not giving my career up for you. You’re not going to die on my watch.”

Remembering he would be in for a long bout of vomiting, she went to refill their canteens with water, bringing them back and filling a cup for him before lifting his head to force him to drink some.

“No,” he whined, pushing the cup away.

“Kylo!” she hollered at him to get his attention. His eyes flew open and he looked at her in confusion as if to say, _who is this who dares to speak to me in such a way?_ “You’re going to be throwing up for the next several hours, and you can’t get dehydrated, it could kill you. Now, drink this!” She kept the cup poised at his mouth, unwilling to take no for an answer.

He sulked for a moment before letting her put the cup to his lips and he dutifully drank the water until the cup was empty. It actually seemed to calm him for a bit until it hit his stomach and he convulsed against the cramping that washed over him.

“You evil bitch!” he accused her, curling up in a ball as his face contorted in agony.

“Yell at me all you like, you’re going to do what I tell you until this passes,” she stated matter-of-factly, closing the door to his cabin and removing her cold weather gear.

He was groaning as he laid on his side, his back to her as she removed the scanner from the medkit and took some readings. While he thrashed around the bed, she was disappointed to see his heart rate and blood pressure were already unhealthily elevated. She knew he was still in the early phase of his long ordeal and it didn’t bode well as Ryelle settled in to sit on the floor near his bed.

She was able to snatch a few moments of sleep as the Daxamian night settled over them, though Ren continued to moan and toss in misery, there being no pain relief medication in the medkit for him that would either work or wouldn’t make things worse.

“Ellie,” he called to her, rousing her from a light sleep. Ryelle found it curious – he’d never called her that before.

“Yes?” she asked, coming alongside him.

“I don’t… feel so—“ Kylo choked, followed by the sound of retching as he leaned over the side of the bed. Ryelle was right there with a towel, wiping his mouth as he threw up the last meal of rations he'd eaten.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, looking self-conscious that she had seen him being sick.

“It’s alright,” she tried reassuring him, rubbing his back as his stomach tried emptying itself again. “Don’t worry about being sorry right now, just focus on getting well.”

“I’m sorry for everything,” he gasped. “You’re a good woman.” He panted, trying to catch his breath. “You didn’t deserve what I did to you that night.”

He was continuing to heave, his stomach not registering there was nothing else to rid itself of as nothing but bile came out. Kylo panted in-between spasms and gagged uncontrollably, his body controlling his actions and keeping him hostage to its protests as it railed for the drug it was missing so badly.

“Ellie, please” he breathed before gagging again. “Help me,” he pleaded, “make it stop.”

“I can’t, but I’ll do all I can to help you,” she replied as she wiped his face with a cool cloth to soothe him, her compassion for him greater than she’d thought possible. Here was the powerful Kylo Ren, a miserable, angry rapist and killer, brought low by drug addiction. It was heartbreaking, and she knew he must be feeling weak and frightened.

“You’re going to get through this,” she tried reassuring him as much as herself. “It will be over with before you know it.” She brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead, the strands soaked with sweat, knowing that despite what she’d just told him, it was going to get worse before it would get better. Just how worse is what worried her.

His stomach finally relented for a moment and he rolled onto his back, his arms splayed to the side and his body shuddering as he tried catching his breath.

“Let’s get you more comfortable,” Ryelle commented as she loosened the clasps on his gambeson to reveal a shirt underneath, which she also unfastened. Both garments were soaked through with perspiration and she was amazed he still smelled good, his masculine scent enticing her at an inopportune time.

Kylo was so tired and sick he didn’t object to her undressing him, which told Ryelle he was very ill indeed. He barely made eye contact with her at all and when he did, it was as if he was looking through her instead of at her, and he moaned as waves of nausea and tremors passed through him although he still allowed her to manipulate his shaking limbs without a moment’s fuss. She pulled both pieces of clothing out from underneath of him to reveal his sweaty torso, and his perfect musculature shone damply in the dim light of the cabin, his healthy physique in stark contrast to the challenge he was now facing. The scanner showed his vitals were still very elevated and Ryelle cursed her misfortune to have no way to help him.

She covered him with a light sheet so he didn’t catch a chill as his condition continued unabated and she resumed her vigil, sitting on the floor nearby with her back propped against the wall and listening as he thrashed in his cravings, his cries of pain and torment echoing in the small room.

Kylo continued vomiting intermittently for several hours as the stomach cramps plagued him with agony. Ryelle tried her best to dose him with water, but he either threw it back up or refused it altogether. What he really needed was intravenous hydration, which she had no way to provide him.

After setting the water aside at one point, she sat holding his hand, but started to notice the trembling in his arm had gotten worse, and she feared it was a harbinger of what she’d dreaded most – seizures.

Eventually, Ren’s back started to arch, and his neck bent backwards at a most unnatural angle, proving Ryelle correct. She quickly grabbed the damp cloth, shoving it between his teeth before he could bite his tongue as his arms and legs began to twitch uncontrollably. He let out muffled cries and his jaw clenched tightly, his entire body stiffening and shaking. The fit seemed to take forever to pass, and watching him suffer through it made Ryelle more upset than anything else she’d been forced to witness so far. After what seemed like hours it stopped, and he gasped for breath, worn out by the attack.

Ryelle pulled the rag from his mouth and called to him.

“Commander? Are you alright?!”

He merely gasped breathlessly for a few moments, unable to answer, until he finally nodded his head in the affirmative.

“What…” he mumbled, unable to form the question.

“You had a seizure,” Ryelle was having trouble staying calm any longer, and her voice betrayed concern in her answer.

“Wait—oh, no,” he replied, his eyes going wide as he was conscious that he was about to have another and terrified that he couldn’t fight it off.

Ryelle shoved the cloth back between his teeth just as his face clamped down, his voice railing against the pain and loss of control. His eyes rolled back in his head as his limbs jerked erratically, and Ryelle began crying as she watched him lose control of his entire body, the episodes frightening to behold. He suffered through several more over the next hour or so, the spastic attacks interspersed with all the other symptoms that the lack of the evil drug was creating, and she could tell his body was beginning to wear out.

“Don’t die,” she whispered almost to herself as she watched him suffer through the body-shattering spasms. “Please don’t die!”

Then, in the early morning hours, Kylo began to hallucinate.

“Mother…” he called out several times, waking Ryelle from a brief catnap. Hearing his cries, she sat next to him on the bed, taking his shaking hands in hers. His pleas tore at her heart, for she knew that when a man called for his mother, he was in dire condition.

“It’s alright,” she replied as she stroked his sweaty forehead, trying to give him the comfort he was seeking.

His head shook as if he were trying to escape something.

“Mother,” he called out, “he tried to kill me,” Kylo trailed off.

“Who? Who tried to kill you, Kylo?” Ryelle asked him.

“Uncle Luke… why, Mother… why did you leave me… you left me with him…”

“Shhhh….” Ryelle caressed his clammy cheek as his body continued trembling in the throes of withdrawal. “He’s gone, he can’t hurt you,” she tried reassuring him, not knowing who ‘Uncle Luke’ was, assuming it was all in his delusion-addled head.

“He hates me, Mother,” he mumbled, sounding heartbroken as a tear fell down his cheek “just like you and Father.”

Brushing the teardrop from his temple, Ryelle gathered her courage, doing the only thing for him she felt she could. She leaned over and kissed his brow, trying to provide the kind of comfort only a mother could give. “Your mother loves you,” she said, stroking his hair, trying to reassure him of what she believed his own mother would say were she here, were she to see him in this state. After all, his own mother had to love him even if nobody else could stand him.

She swore she could see him calm visibly, his face relaxing, though his coloring was poor. He looked jaundiced and drawn, dark bags visible under his eyes.

Ryelle was starting to truly worry he wouldn’t pull through this and pictured the consequences she’d face should Ren die in her care. She knew it would create untold problems for her with the First Order, but it wasn’t just for herself that she feared for his life. What was bothering her even more than that was the loss she’d feel.

Although she had every reason to hate him, every reason to want to see him die a slow and painful death, she couldn’t let it happen. She realized with irony she’d begun to have feelings for him and despite the way he’d handled her, raped her really, she’d had a taste of him and she wanted more. He’d possessed her body and it was enough for her to want to feel him on her again, but better this time; willing, passionate, maybe even gentle. She thought of his strong hands that had protected and cared for her, his eyes that could be kind or penetrating, his voice that was deep and resonated in her soul.

She berated herself for letting her feelings get in the way of her work. _I’m just feeling sorry for him, that’s all,_ she tried rationalizing. _Once he’s better he’ll go back to hating me, and I’ll go back to hating him, and everything will be back to normal._

But she knew she was lying to herself.

~~~~~~

Ryelle woke to find herself slumped over Ren’s bare chest, his gentle fingers stroking her long black hair that had come undone from its pins during the long night.

“I’m so sorry, Commander!” she gasped and shot up from the bed, backing into the wall in the tiny cabin and looking at him in shock and horror, her eyes wide as satellite dishes.

“It’s alright,” he said tiredly, reaching out a hand to her, his voice raspy from his ordeal as he gave her a slight smile. “You were exhausted from taking care of me. Sit, you don’t have to leave.”

“Let me get you some water,” she said, disappearing into the refresher to give herself an excuse to put some distance between her and Ren so she could collect her composure. She tried pinning her hair back up, but some of the pins were missing, so instead she combed her fingers through it, trying to at least make it look neat. She returned with a cup of water to find him sitting up and she held it up to his parched lips as he drank eagerly of it, seeming to tolerate it well for the first time since last night. She waited to see if it triggered any cramping, but he seemed to be through the worst of it.

“Alright?” she asked expectantly.

He nodded and drank more, grateful for the quenching liquid.

“I feel terrible,” he said as Ryelle set the empty cup aside. She laughed lightly.

“What’s so funny?” he asked with a slight smirk.

“That’s got to be an understatement,” she smiled slyly. “I’ll be honest with you, I was afraid you were going to die,” she said as her face turned serious.

“Me too,” he said softly. He reached out to take her hand, their fingers intertwined gently. “Thank you, Ellie.”

She was silent for a moment before staring hard at him. “Don’t you ever do that to yourself again,” she said quietly but firmly.

He nodded solemnly. “It started so easily, I didn’t even realize how bad it was getting, until…” he thought with regret of how far he’d let his addiction take him.

“It’s all over,” she said, sitting next to him and brushing his hair away from his face.

He took her hand in his. “I didn’t deserve for you to care for me the way you did,” he said. “You owed me nothing.”

She gave him a slight smile. “I watched my mother struggle with drug addiction until it killed her. I couldn’t stand by and watch it take another person I care—“ she stopped abruptly, but the truth had already slipped past her lips before she could take back the words.

“I care about you too, Ellie,” he said, placing his hands on either side of her face and kissing her forehead. He looked deeply in her eyes, leaning his forehead against hers. “I would give you a real kiss right now, but I feel gross,” he laughed.

She laughed in response. “Well, thank you for that!”

“I’ll save it for you,” he said, placing a kiss on her knuckles instead and swinging his legs over the side of the bunk. “I’m going to get cleaned up, we have much work to do,” he announced.

~~~~~~

Kylo still felt weak, but his concentration was coming back, and for a job as simple as this, that was mostly what he needed. That, and a little luck. The part was a perfect fit, and Kylo thought with gratitude and admiration for Ryelle’s ingenuity in getting the parts from the dealer. He was relieved when he was able to finish the work he’d started yesterday, getting the wiring harnesses connected and soldered back in place by midday.

“Commander!” Ryelle jumped from the emergency hatch, her face white.

“What is it?” Kylo asked her, surprised by her sudden appearance.

“The Resistance,” she replied breathlessly, “they’re coming! We have to go, they’ve found us!”

“What?” he asked incredulously.

“The short-range scans, I picked up a signal. There’s chatter about two First Order agents escaping Dolom Outpost. We have to go, now!”

“Dammit, and I just got the comms array fixed!” Ren raged.

“I’ll get our bags,” Ryelle replied as Kylo gathered up the tools and parts.

“Where was the next closest outpost?” she asked him as she exited the hatch, their packs in hand.

“Manax,” he said, taking his bag from her and slinging it over his back. “But it’s over fifty klicks, it’s going to take us a day and a half, we’ll be out overnight.”

Ryelle considered, hesitating, but then looked at Ren. “Let’s go.”


	8. Escape

Within a day of finding refuge at the shuttle, they were fugitives again. The two officers had been marching across the cold, desert landscape for the last six hours and they watched with dismay as the twin suns began setting once more. Ryelle had her head down, watching her own feet take step after step, fatigue beginning to settle into her muscles.

“Commander,” she called ahead, the formality returning to their relationship, “I need a break, please.”

“Go ahead, Pryde,” Ren said from behind his helmet, himself feeling the effects of a non-stop march after barely recovering from the traumatic effects of weaning off of spice so abruptly.

They both collapsed in the dirt, drinking greedily from their canteens.

“How many more hours?” Ryelle asked her superior as she bundled up in her scarf and gloves to ward off the cold that was beginning to settle with the night.

“Looks like eight if we keep at it. Can you make it?”

“If I answer that question honestly, I’ll never get back up,” she said.

Ren looked at her. He knew she was struggling, but he was worried she’d fall out on him at a most inopportune time. He was beginning to think this was a mistake, that they should have taken their chances, stood their ground at the shuttle and fought.

“Alright, back on our feet,” Kylo ordered her, helping her up by her good arm. “Need me to take your pack?”

She considered his chivalrous offer but decided to decline for the time being. “Nah, I’ve got it for now, thanks.”

He nodded and led them forward again, his wristcomm tracking the way to the coordinates of Manax Outpost. They marched for another couple of hours, warding off the cold with the heat they were generating by the heavy pace Kylo had set, until their breath started billowing in frosty plumes.

“Hold up, Pryde,” Ren said, stretching his arm out to catch her as she approached.

“Sir?”

Ren was silent for a moment, then pointed her line of sight toward a rocky outcropping up the horizon.

“What is it?” Ryelle asked.

“Could be our lodgings for the night,” he replied. “Come on.”

It took them a little longer to reach, but they finally arrived at the geological formation that had caught Ren’s eye. At first it looked only like a pile of boulders until Ren pointed Ryelle’s attention toward an opening among a few boulders near the ground.

“Cavern?” she ventured.

“We’ll find out,” he said, opening up his lightsaber for illumination and climbing in, Ryelle following close behind.

They climbed up a small incline before the throat of the structure opened into a small cave. Because of its location, the heat of the day had risen into the area and the two found they needed to remove their outerwear so they wouldn’t sweat.

“It’s actually warm in here!” Ryelle said softly.

“And amazingly uninhabited,” Ren concurred as he swept the cave for any signs of wildlife or other natural hazards. “We lucked out.”

Ryelle sat down hard on the cavern floor with a small portable lantern, grateful for rest and shelter. “I can’t believe you found this place, thank you. I was afraid we’d die out there tonight.”

“Thank the Force, I was only the instrument,” he replied after he’d removed his mask.

After they’d both rested for a moment and gotten their bearings, Ryelle asked him, “So, what is that, how does that work for you?”

“What, the Force?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I know Lord Vader was proficient in the Force, my father used to tell me stories about him.”

“He was my grandfather, you know,” he said, detaching his lightsaber from his hip as he sat down to join her on the hard cavern floor.

“Yes,” she said, “I also know you’re descended from royalty.” She’d swear she saw Kylo blush at that.

“My grandfather was extremely powerful and had grand plans for the Empire. My goal is to bring his plans to fruition, to finish what he started.”

“That’s ambitious, Commander. How do you plan to do that?” she asked, genuinely interested.

“The Force,” he replied. “It’s a powerful living energy that envelops and permeates everything in the universe. If you’re born sensitive to the Force, you can learn to sense it, to feel and understand it, to comprehend how it works, then you can utilize it.”

“So because objects are surrounded by this energy, if you can learn to manipulate the energy around or in those objects, you can manipulate the object,” she said, amazed at her own understanding.

“Exactly,” he replied, impressed by her ability to appreciate the nuance of what he was teaching her. “There’s also a certain amount of innate sensitivity that goes into it. For instance, my grandfather, my uncle, my mother and I are all ‘Force-sensitive’. It’s how they used to select children to be brought into the Jedi temples."

“Wait, your uncle?” she asked.

“Yes, why?” he replied.

“Your Uncle Luke?” she asked again.

Kylo’s face blanched at the name, and Ryelle feared she’d made an error as he grimaced.

“Who told you about Luke?” he questioned her, his eyes lit by a fire of hatred.

“You did,” she replied weakly, backing away from him.

“What?” he asked in disbelief.

“When you were ill, I thought you were hallucinating. You were talking to your mother about your Uncle Luke, you were upset,” she tried explaining.

He knelt down in front of her, still extremely tense. “What did I say?”

“You told your Mother that she didn’t understand, that Luke had tried to kill you, that she and your father abandoned you,” she whispered, her arms wrapped around her knees.

Kylo cast his eyes down so Ryelle couldn’t see how her words, his own words, had upset him, how his inadvertent revelation of his deepest secrets left him feeling vulnerable, and he covered his sense of weakness with anger.

“That’s the only reason you’re being nice to me, isn’t it?” he glared down at her as he rose to his great height. “You feel sorry for me! Well, I don’t need your pity!”

His lightsaber sprang to life as he wheeled around, cutting swaths of damage into the cavern walls while Ryelle cowered in fear.

That was the moment Ryelle regretted confessing to him what he'd inadvertently revealed to her. She crawled backwards against the wall of the cavern, terrified he was going to end her life, and she broke down in tears at the prospect of Kylo destroying her.

That was also the moment Kylo began to regret how he treated those weaker than himself.

He’d been touched by no one with kindness in years, he realized, and after he’d treated her with only cruelty, Ryelle had repaid him by nursing him through one of the darkest nights of his life. He thought he was going to lose his life that night and only his treatment at the hands of Snoke had been worse.

“Oh, Ellie,” he whispered quietly, his head down. Kneeling down next to her again, Kylo cradled her close to his chest, but she looked up at him in fear and began trying to pull away from his embrace. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Kylo’s voice was almost silent.

“Let me go!” she pleaded, “please!”

“Ellie, it’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you!” he pleaded, stroking her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Eventually, the young woman stopped struggling and Ren watched as she fell asleep in his embrace before he lay them both down and he dozed off himself.

~~~~~~

The next morning, Kylo woke first, looking down at Ryelle snoozing in his arms, her respiration coming in short, even breaths, comforting him that she was lying so still and peacefully with him. He nudged her gently and whispered her name, knowing they needed to keep moving, hoping she wouldn’t be too weakened from the ordeal to go on.

“Ellie,” he said softly.

“Mmm?”

“Ellie, we need to get up,” Kylo said in hushed tones.

“I don’ wanna,” she moaned, turning her head away from him as he smiled.

Kylo cupped his hand around her cheek, pulling her face back toward him.

“We have to head for Manax Outpost today.”

Ryelle’s eyes flew open and she pushed back from him, scrambling away in fear as she looked around herself in fear.

“Ellie, we’re on Daxam IV,” he reminded her.

She was gasping, trying to take in her surroundings and make sense of where she was.

“Kylo?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, reassuring her. “It’s just me, we left the ship yesterday for Manax Outpost, remember?”

Kylo could almost see as her eyes blinked rapidly that the synapses in her mind were clicking into place and she finally nodded in understanding.

“Are you ready to get moving?”

She nodded again and began dressing.

“We can eat on the trail,” Kylo suggested, “hopefully we’ll make Manax Outpost by lunch and get something hot and filling.”

That sounded wonderful to Ryelle, and as she sat lacing her boots closed, she turned to Kylo. "I promise I'll keep what you said a secret.”

“Thanks, Ellie,” he said softly, humbled by her trust.

“You're welcome,” Ryelle replied, “but please don’t call me Ellie.”

“Sure thing, Pryde,” he winked at her.

She gave him a soft smile before pulling her pack back on.

“How’s your wound?” he indicated her arm.

“I think it’s okay, it still hurts pretty bad, but I can manage.”

“What about the rest of you, are you okay to hike today?” he asked.

“I feel pretty good, considering,” she said, looking herself over. “I think I’ll be alright.”

“If you need a break, you’ll let me know, yes?” he asked, sounding protective, to which she nodded appreciatively. “Now, let’s go get some lunch,” he said, sounding optimistic, “I could eat half a bantha.”

“I got dibs on the other half,” Ryelle joked.

They had departed their overnight shelter not too long after sunrise, giving them a good head start on their trail to Manax Outpost, and while they walked, Ryelle raised a point of concern.

“What do you think our chances are with the Resistance?” she asked.

Kylo looked over at her, his face circumspect.

“I don’t know,” he said, “if I were them, I’d be at Manax Outpost lying in wait for us.”

“Me too,” she said grimly, “which means we can assume they’ll be there. Do you think they found our ship?”

“Who knows,” he replied, “I’m just glad we got out of there before we had to find out. Damn shame, though,” he said with regret, “I really liked that shuttle.”

“Like you can’t just order another one,” she replied jokingly.

“That’s not the point,” he bantered back with her, “I finally got that thing broken in the way I liked it, I knew all her quirks and idiosyncrasies. Now I have to start all over with some stiff new vessel.”

“Oh, poor you,” she teased him, smiling.

“You know what, Pryde? You’re awful mouthy for a junior officer, I might need to teach you some etiquette,” he grinned.

They both smiled and laughed for a moment, but as Kylo’s eyes settled on the horizon, his face fell and he held his hand out, stopping her.

“Well, there’s good news and bad news,” he said.

“Don’t tell me,” she replied, “the Outpost is just ahead and so is the Resistance.”

“Yes, and yes,” he answered.

Ryelle sighed. “Well, damn.”


	9. Message

“Look, you can’t take your pistol with you. If they find it on you, your cover is blown,” Ren told her, yanking the First Order-issued gun out of its holster. “If they wouldn’t recognize me, I’d be the one to go, but even I would leave my lightsaber behind. Besides, it’s not like it did you any good, anyway.”

“That’s not fair,” she replied, referencing the meeting with the informant that had gone bad. “I didn’t want to hurt any bystanders.”

“You want fair?” he asked. “You’re in the wrong business for fair,” he said, tucking her firearm into the back of his belt. “Now, I want you to go in, make the transmission first and then send the evac code. Even if the evac code doesn’t get through, we need to get what’s on that datachip back to the fleet if any part of this mission is to be a success.”

“Then what?” she asked, “we can’t spend another night out in the wastes.”

“I’ll try to find us somewhere to lay low and wait for the exfiltration team to come get us,” he said, “that’s our only option. We can’t take on a whole garrison or whatever they’ve got here, we don’t even know what we’re up against anymore.”

“Alright,” she replied. “If I’m not back in a half-hour…” she hesitated, knowing the danger she was facing.

Ren could see the fear in her eyes.

“Ellie—” he began.

“Please don’t call me that, Commander,” she replied softly, looking down to fuss with her gloves.

“Ellie,” he whispered, this time cupping her chin to tilt her eyes up to his gaze and placing a kiss on her chapped lips before she could object again. “You can do this.”

~~~~~~

Ryelle kept her head down and her profile tight as she passed down the narrow alleyways of Manax Outpost. This location was rougher than Dolom, full of seedy dives and aggressive denizens on the make. She was grateful it was daytime as she couldn’t imagine how bad this place was at night.

She kept sneaking glances up at the transmission antenna near the center of town as she wound her way through side streets and tight passageways in search of the communications center attached to it.

Finally, Ryelle rounded a corner at a building that was almost directly under the aerial, and she tried to look relaxed, like she belonged there. Her recon skills told her to give herself two escape routes and to look for hidden doorways and surveillance equipment, and that skillset served her well. While staking out her escape routes, she noticed there was a doorway just around the corner from the comms center entrance, and two surveillance cameras overhead. She thought she saw a dead spot they weren’t covering, and she passed through it while crossing over to the entrance she needed.

Ryelle then took a deep breath before scanning the street as she touched her lockpick tool to the entry’s digital panel which popped easily and quietly, and she sent up thanks to the galaxy as she let out a silent sigh.

She slipped inside the facility and took in the interior. There were comms panels everywhere, lights blinking and power humming, but not so loudly that she couldn’t hear voices down a hallway close by. She stood on a gangway that ran the circumference of the octagonal room, the antenna emerging from the floor three stories below and jutting up through the roofline above her.

She had to find the exact panel where she could get the datachip uploaded quickly. She searched along them, keeping an ear out for the personnel whom she knew were just down the hall, and between her heavy parka and her nervousness, she could feel sweat running down her back. She finally spied what she needed and slipped the chip into the port, dialing the receiver channel back on the _Finalizer_ that would pick up the data they needed to hunt down the Amaxine traitors.

The transmission was still sending when she heard boots clomping down the gangway toward her. Panicking, Ryelle laid down on the gangway and slipped over the edge, grabbing onto some supports underneath where she clung to the underside by her hands and feet, praying she wouldn’t fall. She knew the distance below might not be enough to kill her, but it would damn sure break something.

The figure above her took a cursory glance around, probably making his rounds as he hummed to himself. Ryelle’s muscles were beginning to cramp and as the datachip stopped transmitting, it beeped to indicate it was complete. The technician stopped abruptly, mid-whistle. As he turned to locate the source of the noise, Ryelle tried to re-adjust her grip which was inexorably slipping.

The satisfaction of getting the message out to the First Order helped cushion the realization that she was either going to die or be captured at any moment…

The technician ran out of the transmission room, hollering for his colleague. In that split second, Ryelle realized the job was blown and decided – it was now or never.

She grabbed for the top edge of the gangway as she threw her leg over the top and pulled herself back up, the effort tearing the wound in her arm back open. It took everything in her not to scream, and when she climbed back upright, she grabbed the datachip and scrambled for the door as she heard excited voices heading straight for her. She escaped through the exit, slipping out just before they re-entered the antenna room, but she was pretty sure that although they hadn’t seen her directly, they would give chase.

Ryelle was right – she heard an alarm sound, the klaxon blaring out over the entire area. A couple of blocks away, she slipped down a tight alley where she pulled off her parka, jamming her hat and goggles in the pocket and turning the dark lining inside out before putting it back on. She drew several deep breaths to calm herself before striding slowly back out of the alley, ambling on her merry way back toward where she left Ren and trying to look inconspicuous.

As she wandered calmly down the passageways leading away from the comms center, a small team of soldiers ran past, ignoring her in search of the perpetrator last seen running from the scene in a hat and goggles and beige parka…

Maneuvering her way through the twists and turns of Manax Outpost, Ryelle arrived back at the outskirts of town where she’d left Ren waiting for her behind a rundown speeder.

“It’s done,” she announced to Ren as she collapsed in front of him.

~~~~~~

When Ryelle came to, she was in a large, soft bed in a small, bright room. Her body ached everywhere, and her arm burned where her wound was.

“Ellie?” Ren called gently to her from a small dining table near a window.

She was silent at first, but rolled on her good side, glaring at him. “Why do you insist on calling me by my father’s nickname for me? I never gave you permission to call me that.”

Ren sauntered over to the bed holding a steaming mug in his hand.

“Well, I never gave you leave to call me Kylo,” he said, trying to sound imperious as he mocked her, “so there.”

“Alright, _Commander_ ,” she replied, reaching out, hopeful for whatever was in the mug.

“Here, sit up,” he offered his empty hand for her to pull herself to a sitting position. “Tarine tea,” he said as he passed her the mug. “I know you like it. Milk and honey, right?”

“Yes,” she answered in amazement at his attentiveness, sipping at the warming beverage. “So, what happened? How did we get here?”

“I found us another hostel,” he said. “As far as the proprietor knows, I brought you in drunk.”

“I might as well be," Ryelle replied. "I feel terrible, my whole body hurts from this damn wound.”

Looking at her arm and worrying she was developing an infection, Ren commented, “I need to get a medic in here to take a look at you.”

“No,” Ryelle said flatly, “you can’t do that. They could be looking for a woman with my description who was shot four days ago.”

Ren’s face fell, realizing she was right. He sat on the bed next to her, distraught. He put his head in his hands and sighed before running them back through his hair, the onyx locks falling neatly back into place.

“Kylo, I never got the evac code out, only the datachip transmission. I’m sorry,” Ryelle said.

“This mission was doomed from the start,” Ren complained, shaking his head in frustration. “Will we never catch a break?”

“But we have, Commander,” she reassured him. “We survived the crash, obtained some intel, fixed the comms, you recovered from your illness, and we sent the data,” she rattled off their accomplishments, “we have a lot to be grateful for.”

Turning to face her, he said, “I suppose you’re right. I’ll just feel better about everything once we’re back on the _Finalizer_ and I can find out who sabotaged the shuttle. For now, I’m more worried about you. I need to figure out how to get you healed up.”

“If we could get our hands on some antibiotics, I could get a leg up on the infection,” she replied, finishing her tea. “I just don’t know how to do that without tipping our hand. Every moment we’re exposed, we risk arrest.”

“In the meantime,” Ren said, “I want you to rest.”

“But Commander, I really want a shower first, please,” she pleaded. “I feel gross and I just want to get clean.”

“I don’t know,” he replied, “I’m afraid for you to get your arm wet.”

“Why?” she countered, “it’s already infected!”

Ren sighed. “Fair enough.”

He let her up, and as she approached the refresher, she asked, “Where’s your room?”

“You’re in it,” he replied flippantly. “I couldn’t risk us being separated, I was trying to keep up appearances.”

“Appearances of what?” she asked indignantly.

“The appearance of me getting a room to have my way with a girl who’s drunk,” he explained sarcastically.

“I just can’t even with you,” she replied, rolling her eyes and heading into the refresher where she slammed the door at him.

“Keep it up,” he yelled after her, “I’ll spank your ass again.”

Ryelle jerked the door open and she now stood in only her thermal shirt and panties.

“You wouldn’t dare!” she challenged him.

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” Ren responded, leaning against the door frame.

“You put another hand on me, Kylo Ren, and I will—“

“What? You’ll what, Pryde?” Kylo interrupted her tirade as he invaded her personal space, crowding her back into the refresher, “You’ll do nothing because you’re a good girl who does as she’s told. You’re obedient, and loyal, and you put others ahead of yourself, don’t you? Even when it costs you everything?”

“Shut up!” she cried out to him, angered that he’d seen inside her soul and was taunting her with it.

“And if I don’t?” he asked threateningly, his voice smooth as velvet as he leaned down, covering her mouth with his own, his tongue possessing her.

Ryelle’s body betrayed her - while her psyche protested against the man who enveloped her in his steely embrace, her heart and her feminine core begged and pleaded to surrender to him. She found herself involuntarily kissing him back, pressing herself against him where she found his erect phallus impressed against her abdomen, threatening her with its virility. She nearly gasped in fear and awe.

She was now backed up against the wall and Kylo leaned over her to flip the shower on. “Might as well conserve water, what do you say, Pryde?” he asked. She looked hesitant until Kylo reached down to pull her shirt up over her head, gently working the fabric around the wound on her arm, then reaching behind her to unclip her bra and set her round, ripe breasts free. He next looked down at her panties, but rather than let him touch her there just yet, Ryelle tucked her fingers in the sides to peel them off herself while Kylo took off his own clothing, carelessly tossing his tunic and pants aside.

Kylo lifted her underneath her arms to stand her in the warm spray of the shower, the rivulets of water tracing tiny rivers down the skin between her breasts, his eyes taking in the sight.

Ryelle shivered, not just from the shift in temperature but from the proximity of his raw masculinity.

Kylo noted her reaction and took it as a sign to move carefully with Ryelle. He didn’t want to intimidate her and ruin the moment. Instead, her reached over and directed the spray at her head, soaking her hair so he could shampoo it for her. The act seemed to surprise her.

“I’m not a complete monster, you know,” he said sarcastically, and her face relaxed as she gave him a tight smile in response.

He then reached up to lather her hair with the shampoo, working the liquid into her silky strands a little at time as he rubbed her scalp, her eyes closed and her face relaxed.

“Mmmm, that feels good,” she replied softly. “It’s been so long since someone else washed my hair.”

“I would have thought you’d be in the salon every other week getting your hair done,” he taunted her, smiling.

She wiped her eyes before opening them to look straight at him. “I’m not a complete spoiled brat, you know,” she joked.

“Fair enough,” he answered, pushing her head back gently so he could rinse the suds from her head.

As he leaned over her, Ryelle’s hands tentatively traced the outlines of his pectoral muscles, her delicate fingertips brushing over his nipples as she went.

“No fair,” Kylo complained, his attention still occupied with rinsing her hair.

“You’re in the wrong business for fair,” she threw back at him, doubling down as her fingers deftly focused on his nipples, her thumbs flicking the tiny, hard nubs as she heard his breath quicken.

“You are a very naughty girl,” he grumbled, his arms circling her back now that her hair was clean. He pulled her close, her generous breasts pressed against his chest while his hard prick poked her in the belly. “I’m going to have to punish you,” he whispered huskily to her.

Ryelle wanted to be frightened of his embrace, but she felt safe, protected, secure. He was big, everywhere, and she felt tiny compared to him, and although she knew she couldn’t fight him off, it dawned on her that she didn’t want to, didn’t feel the need. The way he was holding her was intended to convey to her that he wanted to possess her, to shelter her from every scary, dangerous, evil thing in the galaxy.

She tilted her head up to look at him, unaware of her rapid breaths as her body tried to compensate for the range of sensations it was experiencing. But Kylo was aware, his Force sense heightened once again in his sobriety, able to feel and process things he hadn’t in many months. He wasn’t completely free of the ill effects of the drug, but he was noticing things he hadn’t in quite a while, things he’d missed the last time he’d had his hands on this young woman, like how soft her lips and tongue were, and he sought to relive the pleasure more fully this time as his mouth possessed hers once again.

Kylo's tongue invaded her, but the attack was a welcome one as Ryelle could no longer deny that her body was responding to him not out of pure biology, but because she enjoyed being around him, and she found him attractive. She couldn't hide it from herself anymore. She responded to his authoritative tone, his bravado, his commanding presence. He was masculinity itself, and she could not, as a fully-functioning female, be expected to deny the facts for long, especially under the circumstances in which she’d found herself. This realization brought down her remaining reluctance to admit to herself that she wanted him. And she wanted him now.

Kylo could feel a subtle shift in her energy as he kissed her. Something in Ryelle was changing, growing inside of her, as if her emotions towards him were transforming, and for the better, as they seemed to take on a positive tone. He broke off caressing her mouth to look down at her to see her eyes wide, the pupils dilated warmly as she looked up at him, her mouth slack, desire undeniably spread over her face.

 _Oh, no_ , Kylo thought. _I’ve pushed it too far with her._ There was only one other time he’d seen this look on a woman’s face in his arms, and he knew what had happened, the moment it happened.

Ryelle had fallen in love with him.

But it was too late for Kylo. He was so hard it hurt, and he had to find relief, now. He lifted Ryelle up against his chest, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, which enabled him to do the next thing he needed. He reached under her, grasping her thighs as he shifted her cunt over top of the head of his prick, keeping their gaze locked as the tip parted her nether lips. He wanted to watch her the moment his dick buried itself deep inside of her. Feeling himself properly positioned, he rammed into her, carrying her into the wall of the shower and piercing her unmercifully as her eyes blew wide open in shock when he overpowered her, conquered her.

Ryelle moaned with abandon, Kylo’s phallus buried up to his loins in her tiny, tender cunt. He gave her a moment to let her body acclimate to his enormous girth, but the pressure in their bodies provoked them both to move, the moist walls of Ryelle’s pussy involuntarily clamping down around his throbbing cock.

“Kylo, unh, please, fuck, oh!” she babbled incomprehensibly, the sensation of being impaled on his thick prick making her a nonsensical mess.

“Shhhh,” he replied softly as he began slowly stroking his cock in and out of her tender hole. She sighed at first, but as he continued, the intensity of sensation and the pressure inside of her began to build.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice coming in ragged breaths against her ear.

She was unable to form words and merely nodded at him, making noises, “Uh-huh! Ooooohhh…..”

“You want my cock, don’t you?” he tormented her.

“Uh-huh!”

“You’re a greedy little whore, you want to take all of it,” he said, giving everything of himself to her as the head of his prick rammed into her deepest core once again.

“Oooh!”

“You can’t get enough,” he taunted her.

“Nooooohhh,” she moaned, almost denying that he’d discovered her dirtiest secret.

“You’re a hungry little slut,” he sneered at her, his balls slapping the underside of her buttocks as he banged her against the wall of the shower, over and over. “You love having cock shoved deep inside of you, _my_ cock.”

“Your cock, yeeess...” she agreed breathlessly, her eyes closing as she threw her head back in abandon.

Kylo continued grunting with exertion as he worked himself back and forth inside of her until he shut the water of the shower off and carried her over to the bed, the two of them sopping wet, where he threw her down on the mattress and looked down over her sultry, wet body.

Ryelle was gasping for breath from the exertion and the anticipation as she spread her legs for him, willing him to penetrate her once again.

Ren accommodated her, entering her in one smooth movement as her staggered intake of breath told him she loved it.

“Your pussy needs my cock,” he taunted her.

“Uh-huh,” she agreed, weakly, as her head lolled helplessly on the pillow, her body totally under the domination of the sensations his manhood was producing between her legs. Her arms and legs wrapped around him as her body involuntarily tried to bring him as close to it as it physically could. “Ooooohhhh,” she moaned without care as his raging cock stoked a fire in her belly.

Ren reached down with a practiced hand and slipped a finger between her folds where his cock was already doing its work as he sought the small hidden treasure above her tight hole. He knew he’d found her clitoris when he felt the hard little nub under his index finger and her sharp intake of breath alerted him that his touch was a welcome addition.

“I’m going to make you cum, so hard,” he threatened her, “you’re never going to want another man inside you again.”

His words elicited another sharp gasp from her and she trembled in response. Ryelle knew Kylo was not one to make idle threats, and his warning made her afraid of what he would be able to do to her body, and it responded to the implied danger by becoming even more excited by his presence. She felt a fresh gush of fluid flood between her legs as he said it.

Kylo felt it, too, both in his hand and on his cock.

“Oh, my little girl likes to feel helpless! You like having a big, bad man take advantage of you, and use you, treat you like a little whore, make you do things you wouldn’t do voluntarily,” he said nastily, pumping away between her legs.

“No!” Butt as Ryelle denied the statements, she was ashamed to admit it to herself: they were true. Her body could not hide its thirst for Kylo’s treatment of her.

“No? Then do you like _this_?” he asked, removing his hand from her clit to slap her across the face with it, her pussy juices smearing across her cheek where she could smell them in the wake of the burning sensation his forceful strike had made.

She was confused at first by what had happened as her own hand clasped her hot, stinging cheek. Her mind was trying to make sense of the different sensations - the sight, smell, pressure, pain, fear, shame - and then the psychological aspect of being subjugated by a man twice her size. He’d smacked her. Not hit her with a fist, but smacked her face, slapped her, like an errant child who needed to be disciplined. And while it was physically painful, it was more of an insult, a punishment. Kylo was putting her in her place as he continued to fuck her hole, and the realization overcame her - she was powerless.

And that’s when she came.

The orgasm started slowly in her belly, the warmth and tingling blossoming in the connection between her chest and her pelvis until a conflagration grew to unsustainable proportions between her legs and she caved. The trembling, the clenching, the pulsing in her nether regions took her over, ripping a cry from deep within her as wave upon wave of hunger and desire pulled her along an inexorable journey.

Kylo matter-of-factly reached over to clamp his hand over her mouth to stifle her cries, the same hand he’d smacked her with, and the smell of her own cunt was that much stronger to her in the throes of her climax. She couldn’t stop the screams he was ripping from her as he forced her body to submit to his ministrations.

And just as Ryelle’s orgasm started to ebb, Kylo’s began to grip him, the effect of her body’s contractions and her mind’s surrender pushing him over the precipice. His climax exploded as the desire he hadn’t realized he’d been holding inside for so long had built to a point where it could no longer be contained. He growled and grunted as he pressed himself deeply within her soft, moist chasm and his orgasm spurted deep within her, hot gushes of cum escaping his body as it released its pent-up passion.

The sensation of Kylo cumming in her, his intense strokes, the look on his face and the sound of him giving in to his hunger all combined to send Ryelle over the edge again. She cried out against the overstimulation as her walls quavered in ecstasy, disbelieving the way her body was able to respond to what it was experiencing, knowing that Kylo was right - no man would ever make her cum like this again, and as the climax subsided, she began to cry.

Kylo drew his knees up under himself for balance and pulled her into his arms, panting for breath. “What is it, Ellie?” he pleaded with her.

She sniffled for a moment, trying to locate her consciousness outside the confines of their lovemaking. “I hate you!” she cried out.

Kylo didn’t get angry; he didn’t even get offended. He simply took her comment for what it a - the words of a young woman unable to cope with the way he’d made her feel, the things he’d made her admit to herself. He felt bad for her for a brief moment, but then remembered she was close to thirty years old. It was time she started feeling and behaving like a woman and not like the lovesick girl she was. He didn’t want to break her heart, but it was bound to happen eventually, and if that got his dick off in the process, so be it.

“You’ll be alright,” he reassured her, planting a small kiss to her swollen and pouting lips before getting up to take a shower.


	10. Captured

Ryelle wanted more than anything in the galaxy to be back on the _Finalizer_ , safe with her father, safe in her department, safe at her desk, safe in her quarters. Not here with Kylo-flipping-Ren, a wet pussy and a broken heart.

She kept her back to him as she feigned sleep, unable to rest as feelings she couldn’t sort out roiled within her.

She wanted him.  
He made her feel such passion.  
She hated him.  
He made her feel ashamed.   
And he was Kylo Ren.

Commander Ren, who worked directly with the Supreme Leader. She would never see him day to day after this mission, maybe never see him again. What was she possibly going to do with what she was left with in her heart and her body?

Kylo was not sleeping either as he stared at the ceiling. He felt slightly guilty about the way he’d tapped into Ryelle’s heart, how he’d made her body respond to his when he knew after this mission he’d likely never be able to associate with her again, the Supreme Leader often trying to impress celibacy upon him, discouraging him from associating with women and often going out of his way to keep Kylo isolated. It sure as hell would be hard to look her father in the eye in another meeting knowing he’d pounded the daylights out of his daughter.

“Better get some sleep, Pryde, we’ll have to move out tomorrow, get back to the ship and see if we can get an evac code out so the exfiltration team can locate us.”

Ryelle shut her eyes, counted backwards from one hundred and let the fatigue and stress of the last several days overtake her used and abused body.

~~~~~~

“Ryelle,” Ren said softly in her ear.

She yawned and moaned as she rolled over in the bed.

As she turned to face him, Kylo noticed her skin was flushed and he could feel the warmth radiating off of her.

“Ryelle,” he said more insistently, placing the back of his hand against her forehead. “Are you alright?”

“Let me sleep,” she complained, shutting her eyes against the bright morning light.

Ren discovered her skin was hot, and he rolled her onto her back. “Let me look at you,” he said. He felt under her jawline and found her lymph nodes were swollen. He came around the bed to unwrap her bandage and found the edges of her wound swollen and the tissues coated with pus, the skin hot and streaks of red radiating from the injury. “Oh, no,” he whispered.

Ryelle’s whole body was now fighting the infection and Ren had to get help for her, and soon. If he took her to a hospital, it would blow their cover. It was known they were being hunted in Dolom Outpost, and there was every chance word had gotten here as well.

Just then, Ren heard raised voices down the hallway, then banging. Someone was going door to door.

“Ellie, get up,” Ren pulled her to a sitting position and shook her. “Now!”

“I can’t Kylo, I don’t feel good,” she mumbled, her eyes glazed with fever.

This is it, he thought. After all they’d been through, they were going to be taken prisoner. They were out of food, supplies, and luck.

Desperate to make one last effort, Kylo bundled her into her parka and looked at the small window in their room. He didn’t even know if they would fit, and he would never get the chance to try as knocking came at their door. When they didn’t answer it, the proprietor opened it and in rushed six Resistance troops, blasters drawn.

If it was Ren himself, he would have blown them away and made a run for it, but with Ellie sick, he couldn’t start a melee for fear she’d be killed or injured. He put his hands up and did the next best thing he could.

“Take us to General Organa.”

~~~~~~

Leia Organa sat on the corner of her desk, her standard-issue trousers tucked into her most comfortable boots, a duty vest bearing her rank pulled around her threadbare button-down shirt.

“Your associate will recover, Ben–”

“Stop calling me that!” Kylo seethed at his mother, now understanding how annoyed Ryelle must feel when he called her ‘Ellie’.

“–but you will both have to stay under arrest,” Leia Organa finished her thought as she stared in amazement at the face of her son in person for the first time in what seemed like millennia.

“You grew to be so handsome,” she remarked, “but what happened to your face?” She reached up and tried to cradle his cheeks in her hands, looking with pity on the scars he’d suffered, but he jerked away from her.

He was held only in a pair of manacles, standing at the window of the day room she used aboard the _Raddus_.

“They will come for us, and you will be forced to turn us over or die,” Kylo warned her with no love in his voice. His regard for his mother had died when she abandoned him to an uncle who treated him like a killer but who nearly killed Kylo himself.

“I know you’re still angry I sent you to your Uncle Luke–” she began.

“Yes! Yes I am! And do you know why? Because that self-aggrandizing, pompous hypocrite tried to murder me in my sleep!” he spat as he stalked her down, prompting her bodyguards to grab him by the arms and pull him back.

Leia waved them off. “Please, leave him alone! In fact, just leave us,” she said, bustling them out the doors of her day room against their better judgment.

“Ben, what are you talking about?” she returned to the conversation, not understanding what he could possibly mean. “Was there a lesson that went awry? Luke would never hurt you, he loves you, you’re my child,” she protested.

“The only lesson that went wrong is the one he taught me about the dark side,” Kylo raged at her, “that it’s wrong, that it’s evil. No, the dark side is the only thing that spared my life, that saved me from HIM!” he seethed. “He saw something in me he didn’t like, and instead of trying to help me, to quiet the voice that was lulling me into its spell, he came in the night while I slept and drew his weapon on me so he could end me!”

The veins on Kylo’s face and the ligaments in his neck were now taut and throbbing, the anger in him boiling over at his mother’s defense of Luke Skywalker.

“It was only the dark side that saved my life that night! _That_ is where my loyalties now lie, _that_ is what has guided my life for the last ten years, and neither you nor this foolish insurrection of yours will change that!” he shouted with finality as he turned away from her once more to gaze upon the expanse of space, hoping to see the First Order fleet materialize and take him away from here.

Leia’s face was a mask of shock and horror. Luke had told her only that Ben had gone crazy, lost his temper and murdered his fellow students before disappearing into the night. He’d never mentioned his own role in Ben turning away from the light. The fear, the betrayal Ben must have felt to find Luke leaning over him in the dark of night, wielding a lightsaber at him while he was at his most vulnerable, the sacred time of sleep… she was livid, and she now had no doubt what had finally pushed him over the edge to become Kylo Ren. No doubt whatsoever.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” she replied. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t know, _Mother_ ,” he spat the word out of his mouth as if it were poison. “You were too busy my entire life worrying about everyone and everything else to see what was happening to me. Why did you even have me in the first place? You and father, both?!” he railed at her. “Neither of you had the disposition to be parents! You were too interested in serving the galaxy, and he was too interested in serving himself! So what did you do? You shipped me off to some overgrown child who wanted to play Jedi and let him guide me. I was young, I was impressionable, I was lost!”

Leia saw tears forming in Ben’s eyes, as they were forming in her own.

“And then Snoke found me, found my weakness at the most opportune time for him to take advantage of me and pull me into his sphere of influence. I was caught between him and Luke, both of them tearing at my soul,” he said, sounding tired and defeated as he looked down at the manacles holding him prisoner. He swallowed back the tears and looked out the window once again.

“Do what you will with me, I won’t turn,” Kylo challenged her.

“We could try to arrange for a prisoner transfer,” she said softly in reply.

Ben looked over his shoulder to smirk at her, his lip curling against her optimism.

“You really think Snoke will trade me for anybody? He’ll let me rot here. He’ll mark it down as a loss, but a necessary one, and she’s merely a Sergeant, she means even less to them than I do,” Kylo replied.

“That may be, but she’s also the daughter of Allegiant General Pryde, and I’m sure he won’t be willing to leave her here,” Leia tried reassuring her son.

“Guess again,” Kylo answered her, his face held high and his voice dripping with confidence. “Not only will Pryde let his daughter be sacrificed on the altar of the First Order, she’s trained to die for our cause.”

“Because she’s Security Bureau?” Leia asked, tipping her own hand in reply.

Kylo didn’t respond, surprised Leia knew who Ryelle was and what she did.

“You’ll never break her,” Kylo replied, proud of Ryelle, confident in her abilities, contrary to how he had felt about her at the outset of their mission.

Leia could see something in Ben’s eyes, something about this girl and his relationship to her. She wasn’t just a colleague. Leia knew Ben and Ryelle had been taken captive in a hostel together and she wondered just how much had passed between the two young people.

“We’re not seeking to break her,” Leia said, walking around her desk and resting in the large chair behind it.

“You won’t break me, either,” he replied. “You may as well kill us now. We’ll tell you nothing, give you nothing. We won’t even allow ourselves to be used as bait in a hostage swap.”

The last statement struck Leia with its ruthlessness and she wondered what measures Ben and his colleague were willing to take to avoid cooperating with the Resistance.

“Ben, you’ll find we’re not as barbarous as the First Order-”

“Like hell,” he replied, venom dripping from his voice. “Send me to my cell already, I’m through with this conversation.”

~~~~~~

Ryelle was tired but starting to feel better as the medications they had been administering through an I.V. line began to fight the infection her body had been unable to battle on its own. A rather painful procedure had been done on her arm to clean up the raw wound and a generous amount of bacta applied to the open flesh to kick-start the healing process, but in all she was still tired and weak.

She spoke not a word to any of the Resistance members from the moment she’d been taken prisoner, her Security Bureau training teaching her not to volunteer anything but to listen intently in order to retain as much power as possible.

The Resistance was a rag-tag band of amateurs and it showed. They were disorganized, loose-lipped and totally unprofessional. Ryelle would have laughed in amusement if she’d been able to pick up and leave, but she wasn’t amused at the thought of being brought to trial for war crimes by these incompetent dillettantes playing soldier.

Ryelle was sure they would keep her and Kylo separated for the time being, and when the antibiotics were done being administered, two soldiers came to collect her. They marched her through the hallways of what she believed was a ship, until they came to a detention center where Kylo was standing in a doorway being uncuffed. _Idiots_ , she thought - they should never have let her and Kylo see each other, see where each other were housed, talk to each other.

“Wound is treated,” she hollered to him, “need to get word to the fleet.”

“Spoke with Organa,” he replied over the protests of one of the senior officers, “wants a prisoner exchange.”

“I won’t go,” she said as they began to drag her into a cell, realizing their error in not controlling their prisoners more closely.

“Me neither,” he hollered before his door slammed closed.

The two soldiers handling her pushed her into her own cell, one of them spitting on her.

“Resistance scum,” she replied. “Your behavior betrays your true nature, you’re nothing but immature-”

The other one backhanded her, the experience causing Ryelle a brief shock of anger, but she experienced the sensation of erotic stimulation, recalling her tryst with Kylo and instead of crying out, she closed her eyes and let the sensation wash over her, smiling wickedly at him, which made him shrink back in fear.

“When I get back to my ship,” she replied smugly, “you’re dead.” She then turned her back on him to show him how little she thought of him as she heard the door slam behind her.


	11. Revelation

Ryelle sat quietly on the bench in her cell that served as a bed, wondering if the First Order would bother with a prisoner swap. As far as she knew, it wasn’t done, but maybe for Kylo an exception would be made, and perhaps that would extend to her, but she doubted it. She’d been trying to tap out a message to Kylo in the next cell, stupid as they were to leave them next to each other, but she was unable to tell if he’d heard it.

Suddenly, she could feel him there with her - his presence, his voice - in her mind.

 _Keep quiet, I have a plan,_ the words came to her.

Ryelle knew this had to be his Force powers.

She stayed still, waiting to see what his next move would be.

Some time later, she heard movement outside her door, and it opened to reveal a short woman with an elaborate hairdo wearing a drab officer’s uniform. She had pleasant but sad eyes, and the years had not been kind to her.

“Sergeant Pryde?” the woman inquired as she stepped inside, flanked by the two guards who had brought in Ryelle.

She said nothing, not even acknowledging her own name.

“I’m General Organa,” the small woman introduced herself. “As a member of the Security Bureau, I’m sure you know who I am.”

Ryelle still stayed silent.

 _Reveal nothing to her,_ came the voice again. Kylo could sense the presence of his mother nearby.

“We’re trying to arrange a prisoner exchange, and we’ve reached out to your father, Enric,” Leia said. “Are there any Resistance personnel being held by the Order you can tell us about so we can negotiate for a transfer?”

Ryelle sneered at her, laughing to herself and shaking her head.

“Ben said you’d be tough, but I’ve got lots of time,” Leia said, cocking her hip and crossing her arms, ready to stand there for hours if necessary.

But the mention of Kylo as ‘Ben’ raised the hackles on Ryelle’s neck, and she thought back with sadness and anger at the withdrawal he’d suffered that had nearly cost him his life and the way he’d called out for this woman who had left him to rot. As much as Kylo had been protective of Ryelle recently, she felt protective of him as well, and she remembered his cries in his sleep against this woman who called himself her mother. Ryelle couldn’t keep quiet.

 _Don’t let her bait you,_ Kylo’s voice came to Ryelle, but it was too late. The wound Ryelle was enduring, the illness, the lack of sleep and nutrition were all getting to her and she lost her composure.

“Aren’t you the mother who abandoned her child into the hands of a murderer?” Ryelle asked the general accusingly, her eyes full of righteous anger. “Maybe you could honor the pain he endured due to your inactions by addressing him properly, using the name for which he fought and sacrificed - Kylo Ren.”

Leia was taken aback, her face dropping in bewilderment, and it confirmed for her what she suspected between Ryelle and her son.

“You love him, don’t you?” Leia asked.

The general’s statement was like a bolt of lightning to Ryelle’s gut, and Kylo could feel it through her.

 _Don’t let her in!_ Kylo impressed upon Ryelle.

“And you don’t,” Ryelle accused her.

Leia turned to her guards. “Leave us,” she stated calmly. They looked back at her in doubt, but shrugged and stepped outside.

“I love him more than life itself, and if you love him, you need to help me to help him,” Leia pleaded. “If we can’t get him back to the Order, there are people here who will call for his execution.”

“He doesn’t care,” Ryelle replied. “I think he died inside already, years ago, you just weren’t there to see it.”

“And you can help him live!” Leia replied.

“You need to leave,” Ryelle stood, her eyes narrowing at the general.

Leia was at a loss. The First Order had done a thorough job of separating her son from her, and she knew she’d let them. But Enric had willingly given his daughter to them. Was it any worse? Was one parent more culpable in the destruction of their child than another? Or was it merely that the First Order would consume all beings in its zealous pursuit of power and domination?

“If you change your mind, if you want to help Kylo, call for me and I will be back, but you had best do it soon,” Leia advised. “We may not have much time before a trial is set.”

~~~~~~

Kylo’s door slid open to reveal his mother and two guards who took up positions inside his doorway. He rolled his eyes, lying down on his bunk and turning his back on her.

 _Kylo_ , she called to him through the Force, softly. It was the first time the name had passed her lips in speaking with him, and it felt awkward. _Please talk to me, you have to help me get you out of here._

_Get out of my head, mother. There’s no place for you here anymore._

She could feel her son in the Force; his pain, his fear, his anger, all feeding his dark side connection to it.

 _Son, they will come for you, and I won’t be able to stop them,_ she warned him.

_Is this for my benefit or yours, so you don’t have to feel guilty when you watch them put me to death? When you see what’s happened to my life because you were negligent in shaping it?_

“I know you’re angry, and I’m sorry I let you down,” she said out loud, coming to his side and placing a hand on his upturned shoulder. “But the rest of your life doesn’t have to be cut short. I want to see you live, Kylo, even if it’s not with me.”

 _I’ll give you nothing,_ came his reply, _you’re wasting your time._

“And what about Ryelle?” Leia asked. “That girl cares very deeply for you. Can you let them execute her as well?”

Kylo shot up to face his mother.

“Leave her out of this,” he threatened Leia. “Yes, she’s dispensable, we are all dispensable, and she’d rather die than betray the First Order, as would I.”

Seeing Ben’s response, Leia thought she might be getting close, so she pressed further.

“You could watch them take her life, right in front of you? Because you know that’s what they’ll do. Her father will be sent a holovid, and he’ll have to view it. He’ll see you stand by and watch her being executed, right in front of your face.”

“Stop!” Kylo cried out, his hands buried in his hair, his face downcast.

“Kylo, they will make it slow and painful, to avenge the deaths of our Resistance fighters and as a warning to the First Order. They will make examples out of you both to send the message that you are not invincible.”

He rose now and paced the small space, making her guards nervous. Visions of Ryelle being suspended on a gallows, of being tortured, electrocuted, hacked to death, decapitated… his mind went in a million places as he pictured the potential maltreatment to which the Resistance might subject her, especially as retaliation against him, and to demoralize him and the Order.

“Then you had best do it and get it over with,” he challenged her, calling her bluff.

~~~~~~

Ryelle sat on her bunk, her knees pulled up to her chest, deep in thought. The words General Organa had said to her were playing over and over in her mind.

_“You love him, don’t you?”_

_“If you love him, you need to help me to help him.”_

Could Ryelle help him? Would anything she had to say be of help to Kylo? She was, after all, only a sergeant; her loss to her father might be felt, but her loss to the Order would be insignificant, so her value as a hostage was nil. However, she was aware of a handful of Resistance fighters being held on the _Finalizer_ , individuals she herself had interrogated. How ironic, she thought - now she would be interrogated by the Resistance.

Hours went by before someone passed some food and water through the slot in her door, and she was surprised to see it was as clean and fresh as it was. She ate of it carefully, sniffing for telltale signs of poison, though she knew that alone would not protect her as not all poisons were easily detected. However, the food seemed unadulterated and even nutritious, and she ate every last crumb, having been unable to obtain sufficient food in the last couple of days she and Kylo had been on the run and her hunger had been great.

She heard him a while later.

_She came to see me again, wants me to give up some names for a prisoner exchange. I said no._

Ryelle tried to reply, forming her words into thoughts internally, replaying her conversation with Leia in her mind’s eye.

_She’s right, you know._

Ryelle waited to see if Kylo would clarify his statement.

_You do love me._

Ryelle’s throat tightened, a lump forming there as tears formed in her eyes.

_It’s alright, Ryelle. We’ll die together._

She supposed it wasn’t all that bad to discover she’d fallen in love with Kylo Ren when she wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences long-term. She’d be dead in a matter of days anyway, she thought, laughing ironically to herself.

Exhaustion overwhelming her, Ryelle lay down on her bunk, turning her back to the door and falling into a fitful sleep.

~~~~~~

“They’re giving up nothing, Poe, I told you.” Leia advised her commander.

“Want me to go in there, loosen them up a little?” he offered, itching for a fight.

“Kylo will kill you, and the girl is just stubborn,” Leia replied, sounding defeated. “Besides, that’s not how we do things in the Resistance, that’s how the First Order does things.”

“Wait, it’s Kylo now?” Poe asked, dubious of her about-face on Ben’s persona.

Leia was silent for a moment. “Something the girl said,” she replied softly, “he _is_ Kylo Ren.”

“He _is_ a big pain in the ass,” Poe countered. “Let me go soften him up, General, I can get him to talk.”

Leia loved Poe like a second son, but his impetuousness and brashness gave her almost as much stress as Ben did.

“Poe, that’s enough. If I need your help, I will let you know,” Leia admonished him. “In the meantime, please stay out of the detention area, that’s an order.”

Poe grumbled under his breath as he left Leia’s office where she sat alone, her hands clasped tightly in front of her and her mind occupied by what would come of her son’s capture. There had been no word back from the First Order, and she highly expected none would ever come. If the Resistance heard nothing after a week, a trial would be held and the inevitable executions would be signed.

Leia wasn’t ready to lose her son after losing her brother and husband. She’d already endured enough loss, and she was willing to take steps to ensure that didn’t happen.

~~~~~~

“Hey, guys, step aside. I need to talk to these assholes,” Poe requested of the guards standing between Ryelle and Ren’s cells.

“You know the general didn’t have any luck, right?” one guard asked Poe.

“Yeah, but that’s her, she’s soft, I’m not. I’ll get something out of them, I guarantee it,” Poe bragged.

“Alright, which one you want first?” he asked.

“Let me talk to the woman,” he smiled, his face cocky.

Ryelle’s door slid open, the noise awaking her from a sound sleep, and she rolled over to see a man with dark features, swarthy even, stalking over to her and she cringed, shrinking back against the wall of her bunk.

Where was she? Why was this bed so hard? Why did her arm hurt? She was confused, having fallen into a very deep sleep and her memory not returning as she awoke in unfamiliar surroundings.

“Stay away!” she hollered as she backed away and held her hands out defensively.

Kylo could sense her fear from his own cell, their connection relaying her intense emotions.

 _What is it?_ Kylo asked, then seeing who she was facing, how she was feeling.

“So you’re the piece of First Order ass Ben Solo’s been banging, huh?” he asked crassly.

Ryelle was annoyed but no longer frightened by him as her memory of the last couple of days returned. He was just some crude ship jockey from the looks of him. She was trying to remember if he matched any of the intel she had seen on Resistance personnel.

 _Poe Dameron_ , came Kylo’s response. _He’s harmless, more annoying than anything. Don’t let him get to you._

Kylo’s words comforted her and she began to relax until Dameron approached her.

“So what does First Order pussy taste like?” he asked, the words coarse. “Is it like normal pussy, only bitter?”

She wanted to reach out and slap him for speaking to her so obscenely, and her lip curled in revulsion at his nasty behavior.

“You know, I think I’d like to find out,” Poe answered his own question when Ryelle didn’t respond to his taunt.

Turning to the guards, he said, “Can you guys give me a few minutes?”

The thought of her being alone in the cell with this man repulsed her, but not enough for her to look to the guards for help. Besides, if she had him alone, she might have better odds in order to take him down.

 _What’s going on?_ Kylo reached out to her, sensing her panic.

Ryelle stood up, taking on a fighting stance as she tried shaking the sleep from her head. The adrenaline was helping to wake her up, but it wasn’t enough and she was still weak from the infection and poor diet.

“Don’t get all uptight, darlin’,” he smiled at her spreading his hands wide to lull her into a false sense of security. “I just want to have a little fun.”

 _I will end him!_ Ryelle could hear Kylo’s reaction to what she was experiencing. She tried to relate to him that she was holding her own, but she noticed something happening to Dameron.

He looked like he was afraid; his eyes got big, and he clenched at his throat as he gasped for breath. Was Kylo actually able to sense and affect people between rooms?

Ryelle backed away from him, and when Dameron’s lips inevitably turned blue, he was suddenly released and fell to his knees on the hard metal plates on the floor of her cell.

“Bitch, I oughtta fucking kill you!” he screamed at her as she backed into the wall, cringing from his rage.

“I didn’t touch you,” she responded adamantly.

“Solo,” he spat as she made the connection. He went to the door and banged on it, and when the guards let him out, he went next door to Kylo’s cell where Ryelle began hearing voices raised in anger, banging and tussling.

The one guard keeping an eye on Ryelle looked at her in confusion.

“Get over there and stop them!” she yelled to him. Her order shook him up, and he slammed her cell door, presumably to go over and help contain the conflict between Dameron and Kylo.

Suddenly, she heard a blaster go off, and all was silent for a moment. She reached through her connection to Kylo but could feel nothing.

She went berserk.

“KYLO!!” she raged, banging on her cell door. “Let me out! Let me see him!! Kylo!!”

No one answered her, but she began to hear more and more voices and an increased amount of activity outside, and she realized that the louder it got, the less likely it would be someone would hear her.

Ryelle went back to her bunk to sit and await word on what happened. It’s all she could do, and it’s all she did do for the next several hours.

She wondered if the next time the door opened, there would be blaster fire for her, too.


	12. Generations

“You have got to be kidding me!” Leia ranted. “I specifically told him _not_ to go down there! I knew something like this would happen!”

“He’ll be alright, General.” Kaydel Ko Konnix assured her boss. “They’ve already patched him up, he just had a bump on the head where Ren hit him with the butt end of the blaster.”

“What about my son?” Leia asked.

“Still passed out the last I heard,” Konnix assured her. “They said they’ll escort him back to his cell once he’s awake.”

“Poe is damned lucky Kylo didn’t kill him, because he could have,” Leia observed.

“Yes,” Konnix agreed, “and what I’m wondering is, why didn’t he? I mean, if Poe came at me in my cell and I managed to get his blaster away from him, I would have,” Konnix replied.

“I’m just glad the guards had cooler heads,” Leia said thankfully, “they only stunned my son. This could have turned into a disaster.”

~~~~~~

Ryelle paced the floor of her cell, waiting for something to happen. It seemed like hours went by where she didn’t know if Kylo was alive or dead, and if he was dead, how soon it would be until they came to execute her as well.

Finally, she sat, thinking about her father, about the First Order, about the things she had done and had failed to do with her life. He was right - she had accomplished so little in her twenty-eight years. Yes, she had no children, but after Kylo’s experience with his mother and the experience she’d had with her own mother, she didn’t know if she wanted any.

She then considered her career, but could she say anything she’d done to date with the First Order was of any value to anybody? Given the way things had gone on this mission, she couldn’t point to anything in her time with the First Order as having been fulfilling to her or meaningful to the galaxy.

So where did that leave her? Locked up in a cell, waiting to be executed. The only thing giving her any solace was the memory of the passion of Kylo’s kiss as he had fucked her in a way that made her feel like a woman for the first time in her life, and she lay back with her eyes closed, reliving the feeling of him being inside of her body and dominating her soul…

~~~~~~

There was a noise at Ryelle’s door.

A coldness coursed through her veins, the dread and fear of death gripping her as she backed against the wall, prepared to fight against the Resistance with every fiber of her being until her last dying breath.

The door slid open to reveal Kylo, sweaty and breathing hard.

“Let’s go!” he waved to her.

She didn’t stop to ask what or why or how. She only remembered he’d said he had a plan, and she assumed this was it.

Ryelle struggled to keep up as the two of them barreled down hallways until Kylo stopped hard and took a left turn into a landing bay.

“Keep up!” he shouted back to her, and she reached deep down and pulled everything she could out of her muscles, sprinting between ships until Kylo found one and clambered up the ladder, reaching down for her and hauling her up so hard and so fast, she was afraid her arm would be pulled from its socket.

But she didn’t care, and neither did he. They would risk life and limb to escape the Resistance, and as they slipped into their positions in the two-seater ship and Kylo engaged the canopy, they began hearing klaxons blaring which threatened them with just such a challenge.

“Strap in, we may have to blast our way out,” he warned her over his shoulder as she sat back-to-back with him in the Y-Wing fighter. He engaged the ship's engines as he prepared for take-off.

“Have you flown one of these before?” she asked.

“Why do you think I picked it?” he said. Ryelle could hear the bravado in his voice, and it did her a world of good. “Besides, I can fly anything, this just happens to be a two-seater. Flies like shit, but it’s got defense and offense. Hang on,” he warned, and Ryelle gripped the gunner’s apparatus.

“You know how to use that?” Kylo asked as he navigated the ship toward the rapidly closing hangar.

“No,” she replied.

“Yellow button, target - red button, fire,” he instructed her.

“Got it,” she answered.

“How about you get the doors?” he asked.

Ryelle swung the targeting screen around to the bay doors, hitting one and then the other squarely and ending their inexorable slide, leaving a hole big enough for a corvette to fly through.

“Not bad, Pryde,” Ren praised her, “you may have a future with the First Order yet.”

“Why, thank you, Commander Ren,” she responded, “you may turn out to be a half-decent pilot after all.”

“Don’t push your luck,” he warned her, smiling. “Besides, we’re not out of this yet, look. X-Wings, point-six-five.”

“I see them,” she replied tightly. She swung the targeting screen around on them and began firing.

“How soon until we can jump to lightspeed?” she asked, fear creeping into her voice. Light ship flight had never been a favorite of hers, one of the many reasons she’d taken an administrative job.

“As soon as I can take some attention away from maneuvering, I’ll put the calculations in, just keep those fighters off our back.”

“Yes, Commander,” she replied with all seriousness. Ryelle continued pinging away at the X-Wings that were harrying their aft side, making several shots and reducing their numbers, but they weren’t giving up as the Y-Wing took several hits despite Ren’s expert piloting as they were simply outnumbered.

“How’s the shielding holding up?” Ryelle asked, concerned at the amount of shots they’d fielded.

“We’re doing alright,” Ren lied to her, not wanting her to know how dire their situation was becoming. “We’re almost there,” he tried reassuring her as the naviputer completed the calculations, Ren watching the numbers roll into place on the screen.

Ryelle felt a particularly heavy barrage strike the starboard engine just as Kylo announced their hyperdrive jump, everything going white in their vision as the ship left the Resistance light years behind.

~~~~~~

Leia watched Kylo’s ship disappear in a flash of lightspeed, and a pang of sadness gripped her as she wondered if she’d ever see him again.

She thought of how tall he’d grown, how dark his hair was, how serious his eyes, how handsome he’d turned out and how intelligent he was; it all filled her with pride. However, she was also filled with regret over so many decisions she’d made surrounding him during her lifetime, many of which she knew she probably wouldn’t make any differently, even if she had the chance.

“Goodbye, honey,” she whispered to the universe, hoping her love would somehow reach her son across the expanse of the galaxy.

~~~~~~

“Ellie, darling!” her father greeted her after she exited the Y-Wing they’d commandeered in their escape from the Resistance. It had been retrieved via tractor beam, the engines failing completely after their hyperspace jump landed them back in First Order-controlled space in the Outer Rim.

“Hello, General,” she greeted Allegiant General Pryde. Ryelle was resigned to the fact that her father may treat her like a child no matter how old she was or how much she accomplished with her life.

“Ellie, we received your transmission, but then nothing, what happened?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“There will be a debriefing, but if you would allow me, I really must go to the medbay, and I’m very tired, General,” she said.

Ryelle’s father was taken aback by her confidence. She possessed a certain measure of maturity that she'd lacked the day she’d left on this mission, and he was pleased to see her feeling so self-assured.

“Of course, my love,” he replied. “Take all the time you need.”

She looked up at her father lovingly, and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Thank you, Daddy. I love you,” and she winked at him as she trudged off to have her arm treated.

~~~~~~

The Supreme Council was once again assembled, this time to take the debriefing from Pryde and Ren.

“So, we were able to obtain intel from the one informant that indeed, the Amaxines are allying themselves, but it’s with the Resistance. It was they whom the locals tipped off and sent troops in after us,” Ryelle explained to the committee.

“You have performed admirably, both of you,” General Parnadee congrulated Ryelle and Kylo, who once again stood in his mask as he faced the council.

“What I want to know,” General Engell interjected, “is what happened to your shuttle? I understand there was a crash and your crew died.”

“I want to know that as well, General,” Kylo glowered as he stalked over to General Hux. The ginger-haired man nervously twiddled with a stylus on his datapad as Ren stood over him. “I suspect sabotage… _treason_ …”

“What are you implying, Ren?” Hux stood suddenly, the false bravado evidence of his treachery as he began to quake in the shadow of Ren’s height and stature.

“I’m saying I believe you have reason to want me dead, and you saw your opportunity and took it,” Kylo asserted.

“You’re mad!” Hux exclaimed. “You had best produce evidence of such activity if you are going to make accusations!”

“I will, General, it’s only a matter of time, once the crew retrieves the ship from Daxam IV and brings it back for examination,” Kylo replied.

“Gentlemen,” General Pryde cut in, “let us table that issue for another time, please.”

Hux turned on Ryelle’s father. “Really, General? Are you not concerned that the ship carrying your precious daughter was targeted for destruction?”

General Pryde rose to stand at the head of the council table, his eyes turning serious. “Indeed I am, Commander Ren,” he replied evenly, “but I am also concerned that nothing of substance can be achieved by this squabbling. I know that you are a man of your word, and when the time is right, you will avenge yourself on whomever is responsible, if indeed there was sabotage. In the meantime,” he said, seating himself once more, “I am more concerned with the intelligence obtained during the course of your mission and what it means to the First Order. Now, if there’s nothing more, we can adjourn.”

Kylo nodded silently to General Pryde, and the council broke up, Hux stomping off in a huff and the generals pairing up as they exited, chatting amongst themselves, leaving Ryelle alone with Kylo, who reached up and removed his helmet, setting it on the conference table.

“So, back to work?” he asked.

Ryelle nodded. “Yes, it’s good to be back, I’m looking forward to some peace and quiet. I don’t know that field work is for me,” she smiled at him.

“It’s tough,” he said. “You have to be built for it.”

“It seems to agree with you,” she complimented Kylo as he closed the distance between them.

“You may not like it,” he said, “but you did really well out there. I was very impressed.”

She smiled, looking down at his compliment. “Thank you,” she said, finally looking up to meet his eyes.

“Ellie,” he said, taking her hands in his, “you saved my life.”

“And you saved mine,” she replied. “I had a lot to think about sitting in that Resistance cell. I truly thought we were going to die there.”

“I know,” he said. “I did, too. And I know you were willing to die for the First Order. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, and I sorely misjudged you.”

“You mean I’m not a spoiled little daddy’s girl?” she said, mockingly.

“No, you’re not, although I would love to have an excuse to spank your ass again,” he growled at her, leaning over to kiss her deeply, her insides melting at his touch, a touch she knew she would have trouble living without.

“See you, kid,” he said quietly as he picked up his helmet and replaced it on his head as he swept from the conference room.

Ryelle turned to watch the expanse of space through the transparisteel window and considered all she had experienced on her mission. Due to the delay in treatment, the wound on her arm would never heal properly and she would always have a scar there, but she thought of the healing she had been able to do, and she realized that while she may not have been able to save her mother from her addiction, in caring for Kylo and nursing him through his withdrawal that night, she felt redeemed.

It also made her think of Kylo’s mother, and how she had failed her son. In many ways, she realized now that, as much as she had loved her own mother, Larenne had abandoned Ryelle as well. Leia had been addicted to politics, Larenne had been addicted to spice, and she and Kylo both had suffered for it, though each of them handled it vastly differently.

Ryelle’s wristcomm went off, interrupting her reverie. Looking down she saw something totally unexpected, but something that made her smile with satisfaction:

_132.58/46:54  
K Ren -> R Pryde  
LIEUTENANT Pryde - I’d like you to join me for dinner to celebrate your promotion.  
-Kylo_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I like to bring you a PSA for the difficult subjects I cover in my works.  
> Here you saw Ryelle dealing with the co-dependence created by loving someone with a drug addiction (both her mother and Kylo) and Kylo's denial of the ill effects his drug addiction was having on his life and those around him.  
> If you or someone you love is dealing with drug addiction, please reach out for help. These programs are free and provide time-tested solutions for dealing with drug addiction and its side effects on the whole family  
> For the addict: www.na.org  
> For the family: www.nar-anon.org  
> Or feel free to reach out directly to me for resources or a friendly ear.  
> Love and light,  
> 'Star


End file.
